


All Peter Wanted Was A Job

by jaded_ghoster



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Peter Parker, F/M, Flash Thompson is annoying but still kinda cool, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Titles, Intern Peter Parker, Minor Original Character(s), Not Spider-Man: Homecoming Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Angst, Peter Parker Needs a Break, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Protective Tony Stark, Sarcastic Peter Parker, Slow Burn, Snarky Tony Stark, Stark Industries, Teen Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:00:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 67,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24450211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaded_ghoster/pseuds/jaded_ghoster
Summary: Peter’s just trying to get his life back on track. Which is proving to be quite difficult when you’re slipping on a red and blue onesie every night to web up bad guys. He hopes that maybe with the help of his aunt and his two best friends, he can get by with a semi-normal life. But, for better or worse, the universe has other ideas. Confronted about what his plans are for after high school, Peter is forced to make some serious decisions for his future. And what’s a better way to do that than apply for an internship program? Well, there were probably better ways, but of course, no one bothered to tell him that. All Peter can do is sit back and watch as his life is thrown into utter chaos; Two billionaires competing over a grudge, family secrets being exposed, dramatic avengers, and of course, villains just waiting patiently in the shadows. Not to mention an unexpected father figure.At the end of the day, all peter wanted was a job.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Or: The first AU that I'm writing about because I'm bored in quarantine. This story has some major elements of Civil War and Homecoming but I'm ignoring a lot of details from canon. Read the tags!
Relationships: Happy Hogan & Peter Parker, Happy Hogan/May Parker (Spider-Man), Justin Hammer & Peter Parker, Justin Hammer & Tony Stark, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Flash Thompson, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 253
Kudos: 599
Collections: All Your (and My) Capable Smart BAMF Peter Parker Needs





	1. Anybody Hear Music?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first AU story on AO3, so I'm still getting the hang of tags and stuff. Also, I don't think anyone has done this story yet but I may be wrong (;-;). AnyWaY, thanks for reading! Enjoy!!! Hopefully!!

He leaned his chair back in the corner of the classroom. The placement of his seating was right near the door but he had to strain his neck to see the clock in the hallway outside. If he pushed back any further there’s no doubt he’d tip and topple over, adding even more embarrassment to his already suffering street cred. 

Time was passing by at an agonizingly slow pace, but Peter couldn’t shake the feeling that every tick of the clock was another year out of his lifespan. He was bouncing his leg up and down on the ball of his foot when he felt a specific pair of black converse slam onto his toes. 

“AGH,” biting his lip to prevent himself from drawing attention, he turned to the left of him and glowered at the stoic girl, “what the hell, MJ?!” He whisper shouted. She simply looked up from her book at him in response, not even a twinge of remorse on her face. Heartless, as expected.

“Your constant fidgeting was distracting me,” She said, refocusing her attention to page 240 of Of Human Bondage. She always had a book with her, lord knows why no teacher ever called her out on it. 

“Distracting you from what? You’re not even looking at the board!”  
His complaint didn’t even elicit a response. Just as he opened his mouth he felt someone else kick his already bruised foot. Why is everyone so aggressive?

Turning around again he saw Ned giving him a look of disapproval. Is everyone against him today? Although it probably was his fault for not paying attention to Ms.Warren, talking in her class was practically suicide. Not to mention how his class participation was already on the verge of death due to his habit of zoning out. But could anyone really blame him? Every subject they've discussed this week was already reviewed by him last month during a particularly uneventful patrol. And yes, he studies when he's bored. Sue him.

“Okay, so, how do we calculate linear acceleration between points A and B?” Ms.Warren took a look around the room before pointing at someone, “Flash.” Of course.

“If the product of the sine of the angle and gravity divided by the mass,” Flash boasted, a grin etching across his face.  
Wrong.“Nope.” Ms. Warren sighed, echoing his thoughts. Peter should have felt bad for smiling but after spending three years with Flash, he just couldn’t find any shame.

“Peter?” Shoot. “You still with us?” Ms. Warren asked.

Despite his best attempts, he couldn’t hold back his stuttering. “Uh... uh yeah... yeah!” He narrowed his eyes at the model on the board, “Uh... mass cancels out, so it’s just gravity times sine.” He waited with bated breath for her response. Finally, she managed a small smile, albeit a bit strained.

“Right.” Despite the validation, he could hear the slight disappointment in her voice. Perhaps she was hoping to finally catch him at the wrong moment. God, he feels terrible. “See, Flash, being the fastest isn’t always the best if you are wrong.” Eh, he could feel terrible later. Right now, he counted this as a win. That is until Flash turned to him and mouthed the words,

“You’re dead.” Shoot.

>>>>> <<<<<

Peter was already shouldering his bag when the final bell had rang. Ned promised he’d get MJ to wait for him but after Peter had dropped his papers on the ground for the third time that day, she flipped him off and left. Ned right on her heels yelling, “I’ll meet you at the gates!”

But just when Peter put his foot out the door he heard Ms. Warren call out to him. “Peter, would you mind staying back for a second?” He should have seen this coming, you don’t ignore Ms. Warren's physics lecture and expect to get away with it. Muttering a string of curses under his breath, he accepted death and sat in the chair across from her desk.

“Do you know why I asked you to stay back?” She asked. That’s when it all came pouring out.  
“L-listen, I’m sorry about today. I just zoned out and I... I didn’t zone back... in...?” It came out as more of a question than an apology. She simply closed her eyes and sighed. He can’t blame her, he could be a handful.

“While I do want to discuss your unproductive habit of daydreaming in class,” Peter sunk deeper in his seat, wishing it’d swallow him whole, “that’s not why I called you here, today.” Wait, what? Before he could open his mouth she held up a finger, effectively silencing him.

“As a junior, I’m sure you’re aware of the upcoming SATs and how your performance could potentially affect what university you get into. Right?” Peter nodded in confirmation. “And while I’m not worried about your scores on this exam, I fear it may not be enough to get you accepted into your top choices.

“Ever since coming to this school, you’ve been receiving exceptional grades. Always keeping pace with the curriculum, if not surpassing it. Hell, today’s lesson was evidence enough that you don’t need to furiously take down notes to understand the material. However, it’s important to know that when it comes to your future, grades aren’t everything.

“Starting last year your record has undertaken a significant change. Unexcused absences, missing or late assignments, and even a few detentions. The most noticeable change, however, is your current lack of extracurricular activities. What happened to band and robotics? All you have down so far is the school’s decathlon team and even then you barely show up.”

He knew dropping out would come back to bite him in the butt. But what was he supposed to do? It’s not like he can just stop being Spider-Man, Queens needs him.

“Universities aren’t just looking at your GPA, Mr. Parker, they’re looking for what sets you aside from other applicants.” Ms. Warren continued, “They want to see that you’re passionate about something. That you already have a goal for your future career and you’re taking the necessary steps to achieve it.”

Well, there’s nothing he can say to that, now is there? Writing down Spider-Man on his resume will only get him brushed off as delusional. Not to mention how he can’t shoot webs for a living. What was his career gonna be? He'd like to say bioengineering but if he's stupid enough to get bitten by a radioactive spider, he should never be left alone in a lab ever again. 

“I guess what I’m trying to say is,” wow I zoned out again, “you’re going to need to polish off your resume if you ever want to get into a prestigious school.”  
Peter decided it was about time for him to speak up.

“But h-how should I do that? It’s too late in the year to join any other clubs.” He asked, feeling a tad bit hopeless. At least he did until he saw his teacher straighten up and get an excited glint in her eye. He knew that look, whatever was coming next certainly wasn’t going to be good. 

“I was hoping you’d ask that.” In a split second Ms. Warren was opening her desk drawer and pulling out what had to be about thirty-something— it was 45, he later confirmed— colorful pamphlets.  
His teacher, sensing his unspoken question, got right into her explanation.

“While there may not be any clubs available at school, you are certainly not limited to a brick building.” I don’t know if my fellow classmates would agree. "As the school’s career counselor, I pride myself on always being aware of the special opportunities that are available for my students. Opportunities such as internships at well-known STEM companies.” Peter vowed to never ignore Ms. Warren's speeches ever again. Taking a sudden interest in where exactly she was going with this, he straightened in his seat and gave her his full attention. She must have noticed this because he was able to catch the ghost of a smirk on her face.

“Internships at these sorts of establishments will not only provide you with something to write down for your extracurriculars, but it will also give you valuable experience in a working environment that college committees are so desperately trying to find in today’s applicants. Plus, a few of these places are offering generous pay for a loyal employee.” He didn’t try to stop the toothy grin that spread across his features, his face lighting up like a Christmas tree.

If the possibility of pimping up his application with this internship wasn’t enough, the money made it a done deal. He and May were a bit tight with money at the moment, maybe even tighter than tight, and any form of payment they could get their hands on right now would be accepted with open arms.

Ms. Warren figured at that point that no more talking was required. She handed him the entire stack of flyers and pushed him out the door, yelling a quick “Drop any applications off before next Wednesday!” on his way out.

Things might just be looking up, Peter thought as he skipped towards the school gates.

>>>>> <<<<<

Just as the cold December air hit his face, Peter felt a hand tug at his oversized jacket and turn him around, coming face to face with Ned. Oh god, Ned. While he was casually conversing with his teacher, his friend was five minutes away from going all Jack Dawson's climax scene on him. How long was he waiting here? Did he miss his ride? Was MJ also waiting for him or— yeah, no, stupid question, MJ has definitely already left.

“Peter, dude, where were you? Does it really take you that long to pick up a stack of papers?” Ned asked him, trying to cover up his poorly veiled concern with fake annoyance.

“Y-yeah, uhm, sorry about that by the way. Ms. Warren just held me back to talk for a little while and I guess I lost track of time, heh.” Peter replied, sheepishly rubbing his palm against the back of his neck. Ned didn't look satisfied.

"Well?" Ned prodded, tapping his foot in anticipation. Exactly what he even was anticipating, Peter didn't know.  
"Well what?"  
"You know exactly what I am asking, Peter, why did Ms. Warren make you stay late?"

Peter opened his mouth for a split second before clamming up, the familiar feeling of shame bubbling up in the pit his stomach. He wanted to tell Ned about what Ms. Warren had said to him, how his attendance was slipping, how his grades had even more mood switches than MJ, how their dream of going to MIT together and becoming roommates may just be a dream and nothing more; but he knew he couldn't. Ned knew about his alter ego- hell, he idolizes him. Ned sees Spider-Man as strong, indestructible, fearless, basically everything Peter isn't. But Ned doesn't know that. If he opened up to him about all of his struggles, Ned would never look at him the same. He would stare at Peter with that all too familiar look of pity in his eyes and all he would see is a fifteen-year-old kid who couldn't even keep his grades up or take care of himself all because his uncle was d- yeah, you get the point. So Peter would keep his head up and his mouth shut and he'll slap on his happy go lucky personality even if it killed him. Because that's what a hero does. That's what Spider-Man does.

Peter smiled, slightly rubbing his eyes to make that stupid tingling feeling he got whenever he lied go away, "She just wanted to show me some possible internship programs I could apply for, might give me some valuable work experience. But between you and me I think she just wanted me to try and doze off during work and get fired." Ned let out an ugly snort at that, trying to poorly cover it with a cough. He didn't suspect anything, good.

"I expected nothing less, daydreaming in chemistry is a death sentence, dude," Ned lightly hit his shoulder and eyed the colorful pamphlets in his hand, "But seriously, though, what kind of internships are in that little stack of yours."  
"Oh, I uh... I actually haven't even checked yet, heh." Peter said, sheepishly rubbing his neck.  
"Well what are you waiting for?! We gotta narrow down the choices at some point. Something related to engineering, chemistry, business-"  
"Aren't they all technically business?"  
"But do they all pay?" Peter fell silent, "Yeah, that's what I thought."  
Ned took the pamphlets out of his hand and fanned them out for both of them to see, beginning to read out his options as they made their way to Delmar's.

"Let's see, we got Alchemex," Peter immediately interjected.  
"Never heard of 'em."  
"Daily Bugle,"  
"Gross." Ned nodded his head in agreement. The company's slander of Spider-Man was just plain rude. And Peter took personal offense to that for reasons he legally can't explain.

"Wayne Industries and OsCorp."  
"First of all, the one in Gotham City? The commute isn't worth it," Peter kicked the pebbles he came across on the sidewalk and ignored the fact that he could easily swing to both places, "Second, I don't even think I'm allowed back at OsCorp. Not that I'd want to go back in the first place. You know, traumatic spider memories and everything."  
Peter didn't think the company would want him back after he stomped on their million-dollar creation while screaming like a toddler. It's pretty funny when you think about it, Spider-Man having arachnophobia.

"Anything else?" Peter pressed  
"Well there's one for Hammer Industries, but ew, another one for Delmar's, which was an unexpected plot twist for world-616, and..." Ned lifted the last pamphlet, then squinted, a look of confusion passing over his face until finally settling on unbridled excitement.  
"Ned? What is it?" Ned let out a shaky breath and tossed him the pamphlet. Peter's eyes roamed around the text until finally, he saw it.

Stark Industries September Foundation Grant  
Individual internship spots now available for high school applicants

Peter stopped walking, and no it wasn't just because it was a stoplight. If he listened really closely, his spidey senses could pick up faint theme song music playing in the background. Like that moment in the early 2000's coming of age movie where the protagonist's life stopped being crappy for a split second. Could he really do this? Does he actually have a shot at nagging his dream job and working in the same building as his childhood hero? Ned's chattering snapped him back into reality.

"This is the opportunity of a lifetime, man!" Ned all but squealed, "Please tell me you're going to apply. Oh god, who am I kidding, of course you are! And before you say anything, just know that if you don't apply I will steal your identity and apply for you." As one does.  
"Ned, calm down," Peter chuckled at his friend's antics, "I'd be an idiot not to. Besides, Tony Stark is anything but cheap. He probably pays his interns double the minimum wage in this country just to make a statement. And in case you haven't noticed, Aunt May and I aren't exactly in a position to turn down money." His light-hearted tone didn't match his words, and Peter cursed at himself for making things weird again. He's got to stop doing this. Luckily, neither of them were forced to try and break the awkward silence, as they had reached the destination of their favorite sandwich shop.

Before they parted ways, Ned turned to him and said, "Just make sure you apply to other corporations outside of SI. I know this company is paradise to us nerds-"  
"I prefer the word 'geek'" Peter interrupted, silently toning down the snark as Ned shot him a glare.  
"but the pamphlet says that all interns have to be personally approved by Tony himself. And after obsessing over every single one of the man's interviews, I've come to the obvious conclusion that he hates kids."

Ah, now he understood. Ned wasn't the only one who used Stark's press conferences as white noise for test cramming. Every time a journalist would bring up the subject of children, and whether or not he and Ms.Potts would ever try and start a family, his face would pinch up like he just sucked on a lemon. As if the very idea of even being in the same room as a small human was so revolting it would make him physically recoil. And if Stark didn't enjoy hearing about children, Peter couldn't imagine his reaction to seeing sticky- the irony, I swear to god- teenagers running around his building and touching his coffee. Teenagers carry a lot of germs, he'll give him that. But there was always that split second before Stark would exaggerate his facial expressions that Peter would get a glimpse of the look in his eyes. They radiated some melancholy emotion that Peter couldn't even begin to comprehend. Flashing between regret, sorrow, and... he couldn't tell. Maybe he was looking too deep into it. Either way, Peter hated it, hated the way it made his whole body ache like there was something he was missing, and didn't know about all of this. He hated not knowing things. Like now, for example, he had no idea where he would apply if not Stark Industries.

"Well where else do you suggest I apply?" Peter asked, voicing his thoughts. Ned bit his nails for a minute in thought before looking back up at Peter.  
"I mean... Is applying to Hammer Industries that bad?"  
"Ned!" The spider child stared at his best friend with disbelief and exaggerated betrayal, bringing a hand to his heart like the words physically hurt him. Ned brought his hands up in surrender and silently pleaded with him to let him explain his reasoning, Peter reluctantly nodded.

"I know you have this vendetta against anything Justin Hammer related, given that he's not exactly on the best terms with Tony Stark, but personal grudges aside, Hammer Industries is still one of the top organizations in engineering right now. And having that on your resume would be a step up from nothing at all." Alright, so he did sort of have a point. Peter was only half listening and half mentally preparing a whole rant to shove in Ned's face but god damnit why did his friend have to be smart. Peter, albeit reluctantly, nodded his head at Ned as a silent promise to put in an application for H.I, sighing in defeat.

Ned clapped him on the shoulder with a wide grin and reached out to open the door to Delmar's, "That's the spirit! Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow at decathlon practice," he spared one more look at Peter, "and please, for the love of god, don't be late. I'm running out of excuses to give MJ. Next time you skip, she's coming for your head."  
"That's a horrifying thought to have, but I'll try to be punctual. No promises, though."  
"Good luck with the internships," His friend sighed, before disappearing into the shop.

Peter stood in place for a moment, wondering how he managed to score two friends- well actually one, the more stoic of the two was sort of walking the tightrope of friendship at the moment- who put up with all of his crap. His Spider-Man patrols became a priority over the last ten months, causing his social and school life to spiral in ways he would have preferred to have never happened. But then there was Ned and MJ who, whether they realized it or not, were one of the only constants in his life keeping him sane and grounded. Maybe he should cut down on patrols, show a little appreciation. He let out a huge breath of air and watched as the white fog curled up into the air, then a mischievous smirk made it's way across his face. Yes, he'd drop some spidey sessions... starting tomorrow.

Peter took a quick survey of his surroundings before breaking off into a sprint towards the back alley behind the deli, shrugging off his backpack on the way there. As soon as he was sure that the darkness was completely shadowing his existence to the outside world, he reached to the bottom and brought out his red and blue suit, changing and stuffing the school clothes in his bag once he was done. As he was checking the amount of fluid left in his web-shooters- he didn't want to fall mid-swing from a building again, one time was already too many times- his thoughts drifted to whether or not his new way of transportation was morally acceptable or not. Every time he swung back home, the subways were losing another $2.75 from their once loyal customer. And just think of all the people who didn't have access to web fluid, they could be late to work or their child's dance recital but they still waited for the train. They needed the spider powers more than him. But once again, he's looking too much into this, it's a habit he needs to kill.

Placing his fingerless gloves against the bricks of the building, he made his way up to the top, which was surprisingly high for this area of town. It was at times like these that he felt like one of those spies in an action movie, using suction gloves to scale a skyscraper. Except in his case, his suction gloves were his actual hands. And his feet. And his- yeah he's gonna end that train of thought. He put one hand right after the other, his long-sleeved blue sweater rolling down to just above his elbow. He should really invest in some clothes that actually fit his body to use for his makeshift suit. Arriving at the roof, Peter couldn't help but be in awe at the view. He'll never get used to this side of his patrols, being able to overlook the borough as the sun's rays peaked through the gaps between the buildings. He took maybe ten-twelve steps backward, shaking out his hands and torso to psyche himself up. Then, in a split second, he took off running towards the edge, spreading his arms like a pair of wings as he took a swan dive towards the ground. His spidey sense burned his neck more and more with every inch closer that he got to the concrete. He reached out his arm as he was plummeting, the inevitable pancake-like death nearer and nearer and nearer-

and then he was flying.


	2. I Didn't Know Her Face Could Morph Like That

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter attempts to swing home only to run into some trouble with a mysterious band of thugs, he has some serious thoughts about the internships and has an unusual conversation with MJ.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! I've finally completed chapter 2 and I think from now on I'll try to post every Friday unless something comes up :D Alsoooo, THANK YOU to every one who read, bookmarked, commented, or left a kudos on the last chapter! It's very much appreciated and I'm grateful for the support! btw I'm horrible at writing fight scenes, they're either too long or too short but either way they're bad, so be warned. So without further ado, enjoy chapter two, for anyone who is reading this!

An involuntary smile spread across his face as he zipped through the sky, feeling intoxicated at the adrenaline that was coursing through his veins like tidal waves. Everything around him was a blur, passing him by so fast that all he processed was the flashing colors, relying on his spidey sense to make sure he didn't smack face-first into a brick wall or lampost. It's happened before and he'll never live it down, especially since some middle schooler got it on video and posted it all over youtube. Little gremlin. He's finding more and more reasons to agree with Tony Stark's hate for children. Peter was abruptly snapped out of his mental rant as he heard a shrill scream on his left, a sound he knew he was only able to pick up because of his enhanced senses. He shot a web to the nearest building and quickly but carefully climbed around to the back, seeing an unfortunately common sight. His smile vanished from his face.

A woman, who seemed like she was in her early twenties, was backed up against the brick wall of a darkened alleyway, tightly clutching the fabric of her tan coat. She furrowed her eyebrows and began taking slow, shuddering breaths in a last-ditch attempt to appear calm and collected, but the tremors of her lips and knuckles gave her away. Finally, the person Peter was waiting for stepped out of the shadows, two of his lackeys trailing close behind. 

"So," the man began, fiddling with some white rectangular object in his hands, "quite the cushy job you got there, huh? Sitting at a desk all day, typing away like the drone you are, and for that man no less..." he trailed off. The "man" he was talking about must have seriously gotten on a lot of people's bad sides for someone to refer to him with that much venom. Who was he, J. Jonah Jameson? The dark figure continued his speech.

"This world praises him," definitely not Jameson, "feeds the fire to his massive ego and convinces him he's indestructible. We've sat in the shadows long enough, it's time to rise up and-" the man was cut off as he let out a guttural wheeze, doubling over. A teenage boy cladded in a red and blue onesie stood over him, his fist outstretched. Sure, Peter could have held back on the super strength a bit, but it was clear this woman was seconds away from a panic attack and he didn't have time to wait around for the assaulter to finish his monologue. Any grudges against this lady's boss weren't his business and he intends to keep it that way. He webbed him to the ground. 

Unfortunately, the man's goons were quick to recover from their initial shock. The taller and lankier of the two, with grey hair, cropped close to his scalp, reached into his jacket and pulled out a glinting pocket knife, dashing towards Peter. It was only when the noodle of a man-made a swipe for his throat did Peter's surroundings start to move in slow motion. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, allowing his dialed up senses to take control of his body for him. For a moment all he could hear was his erratic heartbeats, then he felt it. The tingling in the back of his neck, guiding him, searing into his skin. It spoke to him.

Duck.

Peter dodged below the weapon, grabbing the man's arm and pulling him closer, headbutting him as soon as he was in reach. The glorified lamppost dropped to the ground and clutched his temples in obvious pain. Peter took this opportunity to put him out of commission. Dragging the thrashing man up by his shirt collar, he landed a well-aimed uppercut at his jaw, effectively knocking him unconscious. Huh, guess those action movies were finally paying off. Or was it just Flash. He webbed the man to the wall.

Peter could taste the salty sweat dripping onto his lips under the mask, could feel his muscles start to tense and his knuckles to lightly bruise. And that paired with the blood roaring and pounding in his ears were enough to tell Peter that he was slowly but surely getting exhausted. The more tired he got, the sloppier his moves would get. And he couldn't risk the lady getting hurt because of his inefficiency in dealing with a few crooks. He had to end this quickly. One down, one more to go.

Side kick aiming for the kidneys. Five o'clock.

Peter shifted his right leg back and twisted his torso to see the shorter of the goons with his leg extended. He noted, in the few seconds he had to catch his breath, that when the man's pant leg rose a few inches he could see a fraction of a tattoo sticking out. It was a black inking of some old hammer design, almost like Thor's mjolnir. Ironic, for a criminal. He channeled his signature sarcasm.

"Whoa there, buddy," Peter jeered, "it's almost like you want to hurt me." The short man snarled at him, scraping his feet across the floor before charging at Spider-Man like an angry bull. Which was ironic considering the sheer amount of red on his vigilante suit. Peter reminded himself to focus on the senses, let it guide him and he'll get the best possible outcome. He prepared his stance.

Block the right hook. Wait for them to come in close and make a swipe for their le- GODDAMNIT. Peter reared back a few steps as he clutched his nose, which was definitely not in the same position as it was before. He felt his eyes water and wondered how a single punch from a not-so-strong looking man managed to hurt so much. Then he saw it, the glint of metal slightly hidden by his polyester coat sleaves. Figures. Of course the thug just had to have a pair of brass knuckles. He snapped out of it and continued the fight. Feint right, jab left. Target the solar plex.

Peter unfurled his fighting position and felt a twinge of satisfaction as he watched the man convulse and clutch his chest, dry heaving all over the gravel floor, and then proceed to pass out. Once again, he was webbed to the ground. Only after he spent a good minute desperately sucking in the air did Peter take notice of his audience. Crap. The young woman was standing there in shock having witnessed the whole fight. Opening and closing her mouth, eyes going back and forth between a tired Spider-Man to the three unconscious bodies before her. Peter couldn't blame her for not being able to talk, it's a fairly shocking situation.

Peter scavenged the ground for that white object, soon finding it resting next to the criminal leader's hand. He quickly picked it up and turned back around, attempting to give it back to her, whatever it was. But by the time he was done, she had vanished. Well, isn't that convenient. Flipping the card over, he examined the words written. Then he examined it again. And again. And all of a sudden it felt like he got punched in the nose for the second time in a single day.

Stark Industries  
Research and Development Lab Assistant  
Level 2: Theta  
Cordelia Heralds

This woman was an assistant. An assistant for a science lab. A science lab at Stark Industries, the company he dreams of working at and is going to apply to as soon as he gets home. Peter immediately began panicking, realizing he only had three options for what he could do with this badge.

1\. He could leave the badge in the alley and pretend he never saw it but risk someone else arriving here before the police and stealing it. Resulting in someone being able to break into SI and attack everyone there, making Peter responsible for thousands of casualtie- no. Stop rambling.

2\. He could attempt to go and return the badge to Miss Cordelia himself, but risk outing himself as Spider-Man to her. Resulting in him never being able to get a job at SI. Wait, is that seriously his only concern? He could be arrested!

3\. He takes the badge with him and drops it off later as Spider-Man.  
Peter stopped pacing, why didn't he just go with the third plan from the very beginning? He shook his head, he surprised himself with his own stupidity sometimes.

Pocketing the badge in the backpack he was still wearing, Peter suddenly became aware of another problem that would soon be expecting him. Said problem was probably stress eating an overcooked date loaf while they trudged their way home from the bus stop. Said problem was also his Aunt May. Oh god. Before he made his spur of the moment decision of swinging directly home- which didn't happen, according to the three men knocked out around him- he intended to take the subway, which would have only taken about fifteen minutes. But now? Let's just say decathlon wasn't the only thing he was late to, and it certainly wasn't the only thing he would get his head chopped off for for ignoring.

Peter checked his phone, he had approximately five minutes to book it back home before May started spamming him with calls. Ever since he started the whole hero thing he'd started to break curfew a lot more recently, he didn't need to give her another reason to be suspicious.

"Okay, okay, we got this. We can totally do this," He stared at the long streets ahead of him,

"right?"

>>>>> <<<<<

He made it, with thirty seconds to spare. Sure, it might have caused him to be the subject of road rage, an old lady's purse, a cruel middle schooler's recording stark phone and a spiteful brick wall but at the end of the day, he made it. And he'd take anything over an angry May.

He carefully opened the window to his bedroom, crawling through the top and across the ceiling like a- well, like a spider. As soon as he was all the way through, he shot a web at the door and stuck his foot at the window, pulling them both shut. Doing a backflip to the floor again, Peter became vaguely aware of a jingling sound that just entered his house, later followed by a creaking door. Crap. The sleeveless red hoodie came off first, hastily unzipped and savagely thrown in an unseen corner of his closet. He managed to get the sweater and mask off too, but the moment he attempted to do the same with his suit's pants he ended up sprawled over the floor after tripping on the fabric. And my god, that was one heck of a thud.

"Peter? Is that you?" Aunt May shouted in concern from the kitchen, "I brought date loa- well, half of a date loaf." He heard footsteps coming toward his bedroom.

"Uh, yeah! I'm in here! Just, uh," he looked around his room, "dropped my phone." Peter mentally slapped himself, what kind of phone makes that loud of a sound?

"Did you drop it or did you hurtle it at a wall," She chuckled, a smile evident in her light tone, "cause last time I checked phones don't shake the house."

"Haha yeah, that's 'cause I dropped my phone," he considered his next words very carefully, "while also dropping my body."  
Not carefully enough, judging by the deafening silence that followed. He waited with bated breath for her response, which never came. The only sound that could be heard was her slowly backing away from the door. He couldn't blame her, if someone said that to him he'd most definitely turn around and try to forget the whole conversation. He didn't particularly enjoy the thought of May thinking he was that much of a clutz, but at least she'd left him alone.

Letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding, Peter shifted his attention to the bigger matter at hand, internship applications. Stark Industries was a sure thing but Hammer tech? Peter wasn't sure. He's never even liked the CEO of that company, the only thing he seems to care about is his ego and one-upping Tony Stark, which is impossible after the whole "I am Iron Man" thing. Was trying for it really worth it? Say he does apply, and even manages to get in, what happens next? He shows up and serves coffee to his superiors in "I Hate Iron Man" mugs? And of course, the whole time he's doing this he's doing it in the company mandated uniform of an "Iron Man? More Like Iron Can't" t-shirt. He didn't even want to go there.

But then Peter remembered Ned's words. Stark Industries wasn't a laid back place, they were a fortune 500 company for nothing. They only accepted the best of the best, and Peter certainly was not that. He'd have a better chance of getting accepted to Hammer than anything else, even if he didn't particularly enjoy it, and by god, he needed that billion-dollar name on his college resume. Pulling out his computer- yes, the one he found in the dumpster, which by the way does not make him a dumpster diver, thank you very much- and typed in the URL on the H.I pamphlet. Right off the bat, he was slapped with their cheesy welcome message.

"Welcome, youngsters!  
Here at Hammer Industries, we are honored to have members of your tech-savvy generation trying out for our company internship foundation. Plenty of young, fresh minds ready to share their innovative ideas with the world and someday make a change for the better. We encourage you to try your best on the workplace assessment you will be given next, as we will be deciding if you not only have the brains for this position but the ability to work well with your coworkers and superiors. Good luck!  
-CEO, Justin Hammer"

Justin Hammer? Yeah, right, as if anyone would believe that. Tony Stark wasn't the only billionaire known to hate kids. This message was obviously created by a member of the PR team because apparently, the CEO didn't have enough time to care about his own program. However, credit where credit is due, he does feel slightly better about having to apply. This employee should get a raise. He tapped the button and immediately began the first question.

1\. What would you say are your greatest strengths?

Already he was stumped. Should he go with the classic "punctual" or "good listener"? 'Cause if he's being honest, neither of those is even remotely true. Peter looked up for a second in thought, and then it hit him. These people don't care about a worker who's determined or has a big heart, they just want coffee, and fast. So basically all he had to do was emphasize his coffee-making skills, and glorify it to sound at least the tiniest bit professional. Yeah, he could do that.

ANSWER: "I'm able to memorize and follow any directions given to me without any further follow up questions, I'm a fast learner, I pay attention to small details, and I can quickly give out and carry supplies without damaging or dropping them."

Yes, he is aware that he drops his schoolwork all over the floor an average of three times a day, but that's mostly to keep up the clumsy Peter Parker act in front of his classmates. And besides, it's not like he can use his spider reflexes or stickiness to catch the falling objects, it'd look unnatural and suspicious. He's got a reputation to keep up, albeit a bad one. He moves to the next question.

2\. What would you say are your greatest weaknesses?

This should have been easy, Peter could usually think of at least a hundred flaws of himself. Unfortunately, the only flaws he could think of were all basic teenage insecurities, gen z depression, uncle Ben depression, and Spider-Man's fighting flaws. None of which would ever be appropriate for a professional workplace setting. Again he attempted to glorify it.

ANSWER: "I often can't control my impulses and rush into things, with or without an end goal in mind. I focus on short term solutions rather than long term solutions, which is something I hope to improve on if I am accepted to this foundation. Along with public-speaking skills."

Things went a bit smoother from there on out, once Peter realized he could channel his Spider-Man and school experiences into his responses. Why did he leave his last job? Well for starters the CEO tried to kill him in a Halloween costume but he obviously quit because of the struggling reputation of the company. Where does he see himself in five years? Spider-Man doesn't pay, he needs a job, specifically a job at a biotechnology or chemistry lab where he has an excuse to work on webs. Would he be willing to take a salary cut? He's just happy he's getting paid. After a few minutes of nonstop typing, Peter came across a question that made him stop.

15\. What is your honest opinion of Tony Stark?

Is this some sort of joke? Since when does his opinion on a genius public figure affect his availability for this job? Peter wanted to praise his childhood hero, list all of his accomplishments and end his rant with a string of curses at whoever decided this was a good question to include, but he knew he couldn't. He needed this job, and if insulting Tony was the way to get it, then he'll insult him like his life depends on it.

But what could he insult him about? His playboy days are long gone ever since his kidnapping, he's technically not the CEO of his company anymore and therefore doesn't have an obligation to go to board meetings, and if he's ever late to a press conference he always has an excuse. He's Iron Man, after all, somebody has to blast aliens. Peter stopped his train of thoughts as a new one suddenly occurred to him, the press conferences. All those questions about children, that look in Tony's eyes that he couldn't process. He hated not being able to figure it out, he hated how the man put on a mask of confidence and pride and hid his true emotions,

he hated how he lied.

ANSWER: "Tony Stark has contributed a great amount to our society, both from being an avenger and saving us from world threats and from creating renewable clean energy to save our environment. But at the end of the day, he's a liar."

Wow, dramatic much? He made it sound so deep. Peter shook his head, he couldn't think of a better response, so he might as well go with it. He moved on to the science questions and sighed once again. Molecular and atomic structures, ionic and covalent bonds, balancing equations with oxidation-reduction reactions, thermodynamics, and acid-base reactions. Basically, everything he covered during the boring Summer after his 7th grade school year. This company really has no standards, huh? It took him ten minutes to do thirty questions.

He pressed submit and printed out the application verification he needed to give Miss. Warren tomorrow. Moving on to the S.I workplace assessment, he was surprised to see it had the same questions, except for the honest opinion of Tony Stark of course. Apparently, the only think Hammer hadn't copied was the chemistry test section and the welcome message. Peter stood by his previous statement, that PR employee needed a raise. Five minutes later Peter had typed down the same interview answers he gave before, only taking another 12 to do the science which, as expected, were a bit more challenging than the last one. But then he stopped, apparently this test had another third section, he scrolled down to see it.

46\. Give an example of any STEM-related project you would work on, if given the chance and properly funded.

God, finally something exciting. Just goes to show how Stark is always at least twenty steps ahead of Hammer. He's actually been building on this idea for a while. After months of being Spider-Man, Peter had plenty of time to improve his web formulas. By now, not only were they thin, but they were strong as heck. Just think of all the uses: stitches, possible compression wraps for sprained joints, and temporary bandages for open wounds, the list goes on. He types his answer, providing all the details of his synthetic webbing, but making sure to only write down his third formula try instead of the seventh and most recent one. After all, there's a low chance of him getting accepted, he can't just give away all his ideas just like that.

Submitting the form, he printed out the verification sheet and stuffed both of them in his bag for the next day. Overall, this wasn't as nerve-wracking as he had originally expected. He heard knocking on his door.

"Peter," May shouted from outside, "I don't know if you picked up your body yet but dinner's here!" Oh god, why couldn't he have come up with a better excuse than 'dropping my body'.

"Yeah, May, I'll be out in a sec," he shut his computer, "just finishing up my homework."

"Okay, well when you're ready the food's waiting for you," he heard her making her way back to the kitchen, but not before saying, "I tried making pasta but- well, you know. So I ordered the usual from that Thai place down the block, that sweet waitress we see every time we go there gave us a free sticky rice pudding. I think she larbs us." She dissolved into a fit of mutters after that, getting quieter and quieter.

Slightly smiling at his Aunt's antics, he stood up and made his way to the living room. He could worry about internships tomorrow. Right now, all he cared about was that sticky rice pudding.

>>>>> <<<<<

The next day Peter bursts through his school's doors with an unusual pep in step, practically skipping to the guidance counselor's office. Doing a quick three knocks on the wooden door, he heard a soft "come in" from the other side and stepped into the small but cozy room, where he was met with Ms. Warren's sitting figure.

"Mr. Parker, I didn't think I'd hear from you so soon," She said, her tone laced with confusion, "I assume this is about the programs we discussed last time?" He nodded his head, pulling out the verification sheets he'd printed the day before, which was all he needed to bring in. The school handled the rest, giving the organizations his school file and any other information needed on him.

"Only two?" She furrowed her brows, "That's quite the confidence you have there, Peter. You sure you don't want to apply for anymore while you're here? I'll gladly extend the deadline if you feel like you needed more time deciding."

"No, thank you," he slightly hesitated as he forced the words out of his mouth, as if he was unsure himself, "I think two's a decent amount." Ms. Warren didn't look fully convinced, but she stayed silent.

"Well, if you say so." He nodded in thanks and stepped out of her office, closing the door behind him. Hours of stressing have ended in only a single moment. He was granted only three seconds of peace before the universe decided that was already too much.

"So," said a voice beside him, "what was that all about?" He let out a scream and jumped back in shock, his erratic heartbeat slowing only a little when his eyes landed on the curly-haired girl in front of him, who was currently leaning against the wall, sketchbook in hand. MJ.

"Oh, uh," deflect, "H-hey, MJ. Nice weather today, huh?"

"We're inside." God damn you, Peter, "So are you gonna answer my question or...?" Right.

"Just the internship," he shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant, "I'm lacking in the extracurricular activities area." He saw the corner of her mouth quirk up in a smirk, and that's when he realized his mistake.

"So now you have another club to keep you away from decathlon?" He's never felt more terrified in his life, "As if Spider-Manning didn't take up your schedule enough." Wait, what?

His head shot up to look at her, flabbergasted by her casual tone. While he was having a crisis, she was just calmly staring at him, waiting for his response to that blatant accusation. Her cold eyes never wavered, as if she was daring Peter to try and deny it. But it's not like he would, even he knew when a situation was hopeless.

"How'd you know?" He sighed, already giving up. She seemed taken aback by this, judging by the subtle widening of her eyes, must have been expecting a stammering mess, like usual. But she composed herself quickly enough.

"I'm not an idiot, Parker, anyone who pays close enough attention could have figured it out just as easily," she rolled her eyes, "But just for the record, suddenly not being tired after PE, ditching the glasses, and always disappearing right before a Spider-Man sighting is a pretty big giveaway."

"Can I count on you to keep it a secret?" He pleaded, the hope in his eyes practically shining. She pretended to consider it, tapping her finger to her chin and gazing at the ceiling.

"Sure, Parker, on one condition," he froze, "At least try not to be late to meetings." Wow, you can count on MJ to be chill about the strangest of things. She just had an opportunity to ruin his life and she didn't take it, he doesn't think Flash would have done the same if given the chance.

"Like I told Ned, I'll try." He grinned, "But no promises." MJ furrowed her eyebrows.

"Speaking of Ned, does he know about all of this?" She enquired

"Believe me, if I couldn't keep it from you, I could never keep it from Ned." He hesitated before continuing, "I'm going to tell him you know, so be warned if he ever decides to recruit you into his fan club."

"The one where the only other member is Flash?" She quipped

"That's the one." He chimed. He was about to make another snarky comment about the irony of that situation when he abruptly stopped, opening and closing his mouth like a trout as he witnessed the sight before him. It was MJ. Smiling. And no, it wasn't a smirk. And it also wasn't the 'you have five seconds to run before I unleash the fear of God onto you' smile, either. It was a small, disarming smile that's shared between two friends. Well, he guessed he had two official friends now. MJ must have noticed his silence and the way he was staring at her face because her smile dropped all at once. But luckily, the upbeat aura they'd managed to create around their conversation remained.

"Well," she kicked off the wall, "I guess I'll see you at decathlon. Later, Loser" And with that, she stalked away to her first-period class, both of them knowing her words had no bite.

Peter allowed himself a moment of happiness, just living in the moment without a care in the world. He'd just made another friend today, and he wasn't going to take that for granted. He sighed.

Ned's gonna kill him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of chapter 2! I'm currently trying to figure out how long each chapter should be but for now I think it's pretty good. The plot may seem a bit messy right now but I promise I do have some sort of a plan! Feel free to leave a comment for constructive criticism or anything else you'd like :D Once again, thank you to any one who read this weirdly written fanfic! Until next chapter, bye!


	3. So Basically Spite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter has an interesting conversation with his decathlon team, Tony is fed up with his responsibilities, Pepper is fed up with Tony, and Justin Hammer finally makes an appearance!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three is finally done! I procrastinated a bit so I uploaded at night instead of like 12:00 am this time. Once again, THANK YOU to everyone who commented, bookmarked, read, or left a kudos on previous chapters! WE'VE MADE IT TO OVER 700 READS!!! Anywho, enjoy!

He could throw himself into a ceiling fan.

'Ding!'

Okay, yeah, maybe that's not the best way to go. It's a bit too big of a scene to fake in such a small area and he'd like to this to be easy, you know? Besides, "dying" in the decathlon team meeting room of Midtown high didn't seem like the most aesthetically pleasing option.

'Ding!'

He was Spider-Man, after all, he had standards at the very least. If anything, he should go all out. On New Year's Eve, he could climb to the top of one of the buildings in Times Square and send a mannequin T-posing all the way down to the concrete.

'Ding!'

Wait, why is he even thinking of faking his death? The most logical option would be to just forget about dying and fake the disappearance of his Peter Parker persona while living the rest of his life as Spider-Man, getting his income and food from kind old ladies with a churro obsession. Of course, he'd tell Ned, MJ, and Aunt May before he did any of this, assuming they went along with his crazy plan. This way he could leave everything behind: high school, university, internships, Flash, the list goes on.  
Peter stopped his inner monologue, backtracking over everything he'd just thought. Was he seriously considering all the ways to vanish out of the public eye just so he could avoid his responsibilities?

'Ding!'

Ned was right, he could be a drama queen sometimes.

"Damn it!" A frustrated voice exclaimed, followed by the sound of a hand banging a wooden table. Unfortunately, this was the same table that Peter was propping his arms on to support his head. The brunette did a full-body flinch at the sudden noise, the shift in his arm position resulting in a loud slam as his nose smashed against the hard surface. Wow, two nose injuries in four days. Nice.

Peter pried up his face, blinking a couple of times from disorientation before finally setting his eyes on Flash, sending a deadly glare his way. Sure, Peter was a nervous wreck at school, doesn't mean he can't be scary when he wants to be.  
He eased the look and uttered the words, "Why? Just... why?" Flash just opened and closed his mouth in a repetitive action, searching for the right explanation though nothing came out. Unfortunately, he was saved by MJ.

"As much as I hate Flash's anger issues," she started, ignoring Flash's offended gasp, "the blame isn't completely on him." Peter never thought he'd see the day when MJ didn't completely blame Flash for everything wrong in the world. The shock could have given him whiplash. Cutting off his thoughts of betrayal, MJ continued.

"This whole meeting you've been sitting there in a daze and blankly staring at the wall," she scolded, "Occasionally you move your arm to go for the bell but since you're going as slow as a crippled turtle, it's pretty much useless." Ouch. If he focused on his senses he could hear the faint click of a phone go off, which is no doubt the sound of Flash taking a photo of his shame to cherish the moment.

"Y-yeah, sorry about that," Peter said timidly, staring down at his hands, "Just a bit distracted today."

"Well do you mind sharing what's on your mind?" MJ asked, shocking him out of his embarrassment, "You clearly won't be able to correctly answer questions if you're out of your normal headspace. And besides, it's not like anyone else is paying attention." She nodded her head towards the back of the room, and Peter craned his neck to see what she was referring to. There he saw, sitting in a circle in the corner of the room, over half the team lying on their stomachs leaning their backs against the bleachers. All of their attention was focused on Sally Avril as she waved her hands around in a wild manner, her mouth moving a mile a minute. There was no doubt in his mind that she was recounting one of the many "juicy" stories she'd heard around the school.

Last week it was about who stole Principal Morita's wig, two days ago it was about the suspected people who might have been the ones driving their drones around the hallways during class, lord knows what today's gossip was. Peter shifted his head to face MJ again once he heard a strangled sound come from the black-haired boy next to him.

"Seriously, Jones?" Flash said, clearly wounded, "I'm out here answering every question while Cindy and Abe are arguing and Peter's daydreaming about his love for chemical formulas." Rude.

"And how many of those questions have you gotten right, Flash?" MJ countered. He fell silent, and MJ let the tip of her mouth quirk up in triumph. She turned her attention back to Peter.

"Well?" She prompted, "You gonna tell us or not?" He looked at her for a few seconds, doubt clouding over his features, before sighing in defeat.

"It's the internships," he let out, "It's been four days since my application was sent in and I still haven't heard back from either of them." If he ever heard from them, that is. Peter didn't know how long the acceptance, or more likely rejection, emails took to send in, but he was pretty sure that for a big company like theirs, three days was a lot.

"Which ones did you apply to, again?" MJ asked

"Stark Industries and-" He was cut off by obnoxious laughing to the right of him. He knew this was a mistake.

"Seriously," Flash taunted incredulously, "you're applying to S.I?" He emphasized the 'you're' as if Peter's ego hadn't taken enough damage.

"Oh shut up, Flash," MJ snapped, "you say that like you could do any better."

"I could do better! With my grades and IQ," and wealthy last name, "they'll be begging to take me on." Before Peter or MJ could say anything back to him, they heard a loud 'Ding!' to their right. Turning around, they saw Abe with a bright smile on his face and his hand draped over the silver bell.

"That is false!" He chimed. Peter doesn't care what anyone says, Abe is officially one of his favorite people in the world.

"Abe," Mr. Harrington warned from his chair, looking up from his clipboard, "what have I told you about using to bell for comedic purposes?" Is he implying that he found it funny? And how long has he been listening to their conversation? Abe had enough sense to at least look embarrassed, but he still had the ghost of a grin.

"But anyway," MJ started, bringing back the topic of conversation, "what was the other company?"

"Well as I was going to say before I was so rudely interrupted," he glared at Flash, "I also applied to Hammer Industries." This earned an even louder outburst from not just Flash, but everyone else in their little area too. Mr. Harrington included.

"Are you kidding me?!" Cindy Moon blurted, who was apparently listening in to their whole debacle, "You're applying to Justin Hammer's company? Tony Stark's rival?"

"How could you apply to both companies?" Flash asked, "If you aimed for just one of them that would make sense, but both? And the fact that they're competing with each other every year?"

"Plus," Mr. Harrington commented, "didn't he unleash an army of drones at the 2010 Stark Expo?" MJ pipped up.

"I'm surprised he's not in prison." She scoffed. As soon as everyone was done with their little jabs at his poor life choices,- except Abe, bless his heart- Peter took this as his opportunity to answer all their 'questions'.

"Yes, he is Tony's rival. Yes, I am well aware of how stupid applying to two companies with a feud is. And yes, he technically did attack everyone at the convention with laser-shooting robots." he said, "But you're all forgetting one important detail." They leaned in as he made a dramatic pause for suspense,

"I'm broke." No one called him out this time, which he had expected. As sleep-deprived students and underpaid teachers, they all understood the struggle of an empty wallet. Well, except Flash, but even he ran out of allowance sometimes. All of their money went towards five-hour energy shots and 0.7 millimeter led.

"Believe me, I know how horrible this man is. Hell, I was there at the 2010 expo, almost got my brains shot out," MJ and Flash looked like they wanted to comment on this, but they stayed silent, "But I can put all of that aside if it means I get a couple of bucks at the end of the day."

It wasn't the most reassuring response, but it was good enough for now. MJ simply sighed and graced him with a small smile that said something along the lines of 'what am I gonna do with you'. She turned around to the other half of the team that was lying in a circle.

"Everybody get back to work, we're reviewing 16th-century literature!"

>>>>> <<<<<

Tony had always thought of himself as a pretty straightforward man. He knew exactly what he wanted and didn't want and he never hesitated to announce it. He'd hoped that by now people would get the gist of his personality, but clearly, they were still a little confused. A prime example of this would probably be today's press conference when the same journalist from the Daily Bugle that had shown up and asked him that godforsaken question. 'Do you ever plan on having children?'

Honestly, what kind of question is that? Very rarely does Pepper threaten to kill him if he doesn't attend these PR type things, but whenever she does, he at least hopes that all of their questions will focus on the recent updates to their latest stark phone, not the recent updates in his love life and non-existent plans for father-hood.

He's never understood why people wanted kids. What are the benefits? All they do is lounge around your house for 18 years, taking up all your food and water and free time. Every single second of the day is spent worrying about them. Wondering if they're okay, if they're safe, if they know you're out there and thinking about them. Not to mention how much you could screw up their future if you make one wrong move. Believe him, he's learned from experience.

So, of course, he said all of this to the journalist in the clearest way he could. And yeah, he might have made a few jabs at Captain America's patriotism and compared her hair to a mutilated bush, but so what? If they're going to intrude on his personal life, he can make a few jokes about theirs. But apparently, not everyone agreed with him.

By now the journalist will have written a lengthy article on how he's "rude" and "egotistical" and before midnight his PR team will pay her off to destroy it. It's how it's always been and he's not eager to stop it. But for now, he just wants to forget this day ever happened.

Kicking off his Italian loafers, Tony stretched out his arms and collapsed onto the couch. All he wanted was to take a much-needed nap and never wake up. He exhaled a deep breath, slowly losing consciousness as his eyes began to flutter closed. But then they didn't.

"Tony!" Shouted a voice from the hallway, decimating any trace of exhaustion from his body. Now all that was left was fear. Pure fear.

"Yes, Pepper darling?" Perhaps if he made enough jokes about this situation, it'd lose its seriousness.

"Don't 'Pepper darling' me," the voice said again, gradually getting louder as its user approached, "What was that, today?" Of course, she would ask about that, he shouldn't have expected an easy way out.

"Alright, alright," he started, dragging a hand down his face and letting out a sigh, "I'm sorry. Okay? That damn reporter was getting on my nerves and I got sick of her asking the same question every time she comes here." Finally, he saw the woman appear. Her peach-colored heels clacking against the tiles as she waltzed over to him, managing to remain elegant despite her annoyed mood. And when she looked over at him, the anger in her eyes seem to dissipate into something- Pity, maybe.

"Tony," she said softly, her previous anger suddenly gone, "I understand how you may not want to answer certain questions, especially the personal ones she had asked, but you have got to find a way to be professional. Press conferences are all about painting a positive picture of you for the public, but every time you end up insulting Steve and any other comedic material you can get your hands on."

"So you admit it was comedic?" he jeered, slightly easing the tension in the room

"Tony." She warned

"Okay, okay, I understand. I'll try," emphasis on the try, "to be more business-like. But no promises about the Steve thing." She managed a small chuckle at that, and Tony counted that as a win. In fact, any time she smiled, or so much as gazed in his direction, Tony couldn't help but feel golden.

"Thank you," she said. Tony simply nodded and lied back down, once again disappearing into the black abyss of sle-

"What do you think you're doing?" Oh god, did he somehow manage to insult Capsicle while being only half awake? If so, he's disappointed, but also slightly proud. Sensing the confusion in Tony's eyes, Pepper simply rolled her eyes and pulled out a stack of folders from her bag- oh my god, who is she? Mary Poppins? What kind of black magic bag can hold that?

"I can't believe you forgot," she started, sitting down on the chair across from him, "your own foundation- which was your idea to start, by the way- forgotten." He still didn't understand where she was going with this.

"In case you haven't noticed, I still don't know what you're referring to. Mind filling me in?" Whatever it was, he had a feeling he wasn't going to enjoy it. She sighed.

"The September foundation, Tony. The one we started as a PR ploy after you drunkenly flew around town in your iron man suit." She sounded disappointed, and if he's being honest she had a right to be. He'd forgotten something and based on her facial expression, it was pretty darn important.

"Riiiiiight," he dragged his words, "and how is that related to you keeping me from sleep right now?" He asked

"Because," she picked up the stack of folders and slammed them down even harder, "it's your job to personally go through every application and decide if the kids meet the criteria or not. We already narrowed down the stack based on their behavior record, GPA, and age range, but you'll have to do the rest." I'm sorry, what? There's about a hundred applications- that are at least five pages each, mind you- and he has to review all of them individually? And not only that, but they're children? Since when was his company a daycare? He shifted his eyes from the stack and back to Pepper, who had another annoyed look. How could she possibly be more annoy- oh. He said all of that out loud. Whoops.

"First of all, there were originally two thousand. Be grateful you only have to do a small fraction of that. Second, do you honestly believe Stark Industries is hiring toddlers? These are capable high schoolers who will all be going to universities in a few years. Plus, they're all from top STEM schools across the five boroughs." Well, that brought him a little bit of comfort, knowing it would be an actual resume instead of childish drawings of the avengers that he got in the mail. But then again, looking through drawings would go faster, and he might even get some blackmail material for how horribly they draw Katniss.

"Please don't tell me you're serious about this, Pep," he pleaded, "Can't you get some other employees to go over these? Employees, who have more than five hours of sleep in three days and can afford the risk of staying awake?" Her unwavering stare told him the answer he should have expected from the beginning. A hard no. However, just as Tony was about to accept defeat, he came to a sudden realization. He just had to look at them, no one said anything about hiring.

Tony plastered on his signature snarky grin and picked a folder from the pile.

"Let's see..." his eyes roamed the page as if he was actually invested in this, "Joseph "Joe" Davis. Who includes their nickname in a formal resume? Rejected." He threw the folder on the other side of the table, catching a glimpse of Pepper's aggravated face. He smirked and continued.

"Jack Garcia, just like cherry garcia. My least favorite ice cream flavor. Pass."

This continued on for a while, ridiculous insults to every single one of the applicants that he would reject them for. Joshua Smith? Congrats to him for making his greatest strength his ability to "listen", he's probably so good at it, it's like he was born with it. Can you hear his sarcasm? Olivia Hernandez, "very determined". What five-year-old died and gave her that cheap idea? Bradley Carter was kind enough to show his thought process for his answers to the science questions, too bad they were mostly wrong. Tony was having the time of his life, breezing through the papers and letting out all of his repressed pettiness. Until he got to the last one. Peter Parker.

Tony stopped and stared at the sheet in his hands. He didn't look at his record, his grades, or even his answers, they were of no importance to him. But he couldn't take his eyes off the photo of the kid. There was nothing particularly special about him, he was just like every other teen. So why did he feel so familiar? The slightly curly hair, the borderline-black brown eyes, the nervous, closed-lip smile- it was average. Too average, perhaps. But no, this didn't matter, none of these pesky children mattered to him. He wasn't sure how long he had been examining this photo and he could begin to feel Pepper's eyes on him, this time seeming more curious than annoyed. He had to reject this kid before she got the wrong idea and assumed he actually wanted to hire him. He flipped to a random interview question, scanned it, and said to Pepper,

"His former boss was a cosplaying villain. Pass." He threw Mr. Parker's file- which was luckily the last one, thank god- and pushed away the strange pang he felt in his chest. It was probably the damn arc reactor again. He looked up once he heard a soft sigh come from the blonde in front of him.

"You know, Tony," she grabbed all the files and shoved them back in that supernatural bag of hers, "this is why the PR department hates you." She was clearly tired of all his childish nonsense, but this is the way it's always been. And after so long her words lost all its bite, replaced by slightly amused irritation.

"The feeling's mutual." He replied

She turned around and made her way back to the elevator, doubt heading to her office where she'll have her assistant send out over a hundred rejection emails. Watching her walk away out the corner of his eye, with her heels clacking and dress skirt slightly swaying, Tony only had one thought on his mind. There was no way he could take a nap now.  
Getting up- did he just hear his knees crack?- he grabbed a bottle of scotch and headed to the lab, preparing for another eight hours of holing up in his lab and adjusting the Stark Phone.

Boy did he love his life.

>>>>> <<<<<

Justin Hammer hated his life. But why?

His name held weight in the science community, he owned a prestigious company, and he was a billionaire; So how could he be unsatisfied? After all, he had everything, right? Wrong. He didn't have everything. To some people, he was living the American dream, but to Justin, he was living in a never-ending nightmare, the gods damning his life to eternal suffering.  
Okay, yeah, maybe he was being a bit dramatic. But his point still stands about the perpetual cycle that is his life.

Ever since the birth of Hammer Industries, Justin had set his heights to the very top. He was going to be number one, and no one could stop him. Except some did. And that man was Tony Stark. No matter how hard he tried, how much money he had, or even how many followers on twitter he had, Tony always came out on top. It was annoying, really. He was always ten steps- no, miles- ahead. If their progress was a highway, Justin would be cruising in a hand-me-down grandma van while Stark left him in the dust with his sports car. Running him over sounded like a damn good ide- er, I mean, what? So yes, Justin hated his life. But at least he never gave up, he just saw this as a way to work harder. If you think about it and ignore the drone attack and all his run-ins with the FBI, he's pretty determined. Which brings him to this very moment.

Currently, he is sitting at his desk while reading through every single one of the applications sent in. Yes, every single one. He thought that having the CEO of the company review all of them gave it a personal connection of sorts, and it totally wasn't because the team that usually went through them was fed up with his complaining and kicked him out. And personal connections was something he was sure Tony Stark struggled with judging by the amount of one-night stands he used to have. And besides, he had to be grateful to anyone who applied, as most teenagers flocked to Tony these days like moths to a lightbulb. But unfortunately, that didn't guarantee that anyone who tried to get accepted was worthy of the job. Sure, some had decent GPA's and friendly responses, but the answers to the science portion- which he'd gotten directly from the Stark internship assessment, so it must be good- were less than satisfactory.

Dragging a hand over his face, ignoring how the gold watch he wore slightly scratched his chin, Justin was just about ready to give up. But then he saw it, the hail Mary resume that shined brighter than his Rolex. Peter Parker.

His strengths weren't the cliché crap that usually came out of these kids' mouths, instead, it was all skills that could be useful in an office. His weaknesses weren't just blatant insults about himself, it suggested room for growth. His former job was another top company, his ideal future was realistic based on his amazing GPA and former extracurricular activities, and his comment about the monthly wage he would receive was just what he and his company had hoped for. Plus, every single question in the science portion was correct...with the work provided. What was this kid, a godsend?

But of course, life couldn't be this easy. There was always a catch, and that catch was Tony Stark. He'd gotten a few complaints about the interview question he'd forced them to add about their honest thoughts on the avenger/genius, but it was needed. No matter how good of an employee they are, he couldn't stand to be in the same room as an Iron Man fanboy. So, accepting the inevitable, he read Parker's answer. And presumably perished.

'Tony Stark has contributed a great amount to our society, both from being an avenger and saving us from world threats and from creating renewable clean energy to save our environment. But at the end of the day, he's a liar.'

He didn't really enjoy the first part of the answer, but the last sentence was all he needed to make up his mind. He had to hire this kid, before Tony stole this too. Deciding that he should probably do this as fast as possible- honestly, who knows how fast Miss. Potts sends out acceptance emails, the woman is superhuman fast- he picked up his office phone and dialed the number written on the information section.

It was only when he heard clicking on the other end of the call, showing that it had been accepted, did Justin realize that he really, really didn't think this through.

>>>>> <<<<<

Peter made his way to the subway after bidding his friends goodbye, getting an enthusiastic wave from Ned and a friendly- how did she manage to make this gesture seem nice?- middle finger from MJ. It was only five o'clock and he was already exhausted, too exhausted to swing home. Sonnets by Thomas Wyatt and William Shakespeare took a serious toll on him. So after such a stressful day of decathlon practice, you can imagine how annoyed he was once he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

Letting out an aggravated sigh, he plucked out the phone and stared at the caller ID. Unknown Number. Great. But Peter wasn't anything if not merciful, these spam callers were just people at the end of the day, they needed money just like him. So without another thought, he picked up the phone, expecting some question about if he's satisfied with his health insurance or something.

"Hello?" He said

"Ah, hello, Mr. Parker."

The heck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anddd that's the end of chapter three! Thank you to everyone who is still reading three chapters in, it is very much appreciated! Also, Tony may have brushed off Peter now but he is definitely not out of the picture, he's still going to be in almost every chapter later on. So to anyone who thought I was getting rid of him, rest assured that that is not the case and he plays a MAJOR role, as seen in the tags. I'm going to try and keep up the weekly updates schedule but from now on the plot gets more complicated, so at some point I might change it up. Anyway, THANKS FOR READING and I'll see you next chapter! Bye :D


	4. The 'R' In Stark Stands For Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin puts improv class to use, Peter gets the news, and Tony screws up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter four is done! Bit of a late update after a pretty busy week but YAY, ITS COMPLETE! Also, as per usual, THANK YOU to everyone who commented, bookmarked, left a kudos, or read this story! We made it to over 1k!!! WOO-HOO! Anyway, hopefully you like this chapter! :D (PS: I really have to figure out how to do italics and paragraph breaks in HTML, it's plain sad how I still don't know at this point)

Justin had made many mistakes in his life, most of which he refuses to acknowledge. Like the 2010 Stark Expo, which totally wasn't his fault, working alongside Stern, the man was untrustworthy, meeting Tony Stark in the first place, etc. But after hearing Peter's voice through the speaker of his Hammer Phone, he decided to acknowledge that this idea was very stupid. What kind of person just randomly calls the highschooler they want to hire as their intern? Their position is supposed to be approved by the Hammer Industries Internship Foundation team, who will then send out a professional email to the employee and discuss any relevant information. Information that Justin did not know.

But hey, it's not like he can back out now. And besides, he's experienced much more high stake battles than this one. Like the time he was invited to the Met Gala and had engaged in a passive-aggressive argument with Stark, forcing him to be creative with insults on the spot. He didn't win, but that's not the point. Taking a deep breath, he leaned into the phone and said, "Ah, hello, Mr. Parker." Oh, cause that's not creepy at all. He sounds like an evil mastermind waiting in a chair only to dramatically turn around as he pets his hairless cat. Justin stood up and shrugged off his grey blazer on to the chair because all of a sudden it feels a bit too hot in here. He then began to pace back and forth around the room.

"Uhm... Hello?" Peter said, wariness lacing his voice, "Who is this?" Okay, Justin, this is the moment you've been waiting for. Two years of improv classes have all come down to now.

"This is Carl Price, from the Hammer Industries Hammer Industries Internship Foundation committee. I'm calling about your recently submitted application." He made his voice a little deeper just to be safe. And that's when he heard a strangled gasp come from the other side of the line, followed by aggressive coughing. A full thirty seconds later, Peter finally came back to the conversation.

"Ah yes, of course," his voice cracked, "sorry about that..." God, this kid was more awkward than he thought. But oh well, nothing a CEO can't change.

"It's not a problem. But I would like to speak to you regarding your acceptance." Another coughing fit followed, but at least it was only a few seconds this time.

"A-acceptance? I've been accepted?" This might have been the first time anyone was ever excited to be working at this company. He swears everyone in this building is plotting his assassination.

"But of course, Mr. Parker. I- erm, I mean we, were very impressed with your answers and record." He expected some rambling, maybe some surprised curses, but all he got was a tense silence. What?

"Wait, don't acceptance letters usually come in emails from the company?" Ahhhh crap. Justin realized there was only one way out of this, and immediately sprinted outside of his office to his assistant's desk. He made sure to grab Peter's file on the way out. As he slammed the papers onto her desk, he ignored her questioning face, choosing instead to reply to Peter.

"Erm, yes, about that," he grabbed a pen and a post-it note, "Since you're the only intern we're hiring we figured we shouldn't waste any more time and inform you right away." He clicked the pen and began to write on the paper, sloppy writing be damned. He then shoved the note in his assistant's faced and watched as her features morphed from plain confused to straight-up panic. The note read 'Draft an email to the address on this file. Hammer Industries Internship Foundation internship acceptance. NOW.' He watched as the young woman furiously typed away on her computer, eyebrows furrowed and beads of sweat rolling down her forehead. Wow, nice to know all his employees were terrified of him, if not full-on annoyed.

"Will I be getting an email, though? I think I need to show the confirmation to my guidance counselor at school." He could hear the suspicion in Peter's voice, probably not believing that this actually was Hammer Industries calling. Even with a deeper pitch, did people not recognize his voice from his countless interviews? He bets they recognized Tony's in a heartbeat.

"Yes, you will most likely receive an email any minute now. Our employees are just a bit busy with all of the other rejection letters being sent out to the other." Good, distract him with subtle compliments. Inflate the ego and he'll forget any questions he had about this. Or at least that's what happens to Justin whenever his employees do this.

"Ah, okay..." he didn't sound convinced, apparently he didn't accept compliments as easy as Justin did. Yet another thing that will have to change.

"Yup," he covered the phone and whisper screamed to his assistant, "type faster!" The woman typed for a few more seconds until she aggressively clicked the final button on her computer screen, 'send'. They both slumped over in relief, exhaling breaths that were way too heavy for such a seemingly simple situation. He heard a 'ding!' come from Peter's side of the call, followed by a few gentle taps, and finally a soft "Ohhh." Then he waited.

"Ohhhh mY GOD I AM SO SORRY." There it is. Justin smirked at the anxiety-ridden voice and silently enjoyed the kid's antics, if only other people would bask in his greatness like that. "I just wanted to be sure that this really was the actual job offer because I heard from my school that they usually email you directly with all the terms and conditions and NDA's and since Hammer Industries is a very prestigious company this might have been a prank call from my classmate or-"

"Don't worry about it," Jesus, the kid could ramble, "a reasonable assumption, really. So, do you accept Hammer Industries' offer?" He only had to wait a few seconds before Peter replied, all his previous nervousness gone and replaced by an unwavering tone.

"Yes." Perfect.

>>>>> <<<<<

Peter stared at his phone for a little while after Mr. Price had hung up. He remembered every word he said, every time he stuttered, and every single coughing fit he had during the phone call, but he still couldn't believe what had just happened.  
He just got accepted from one of the top ten leading engineering corporations for an internship.

And yes, he might have been a little wary at first. But can you blame him? He expected some insurance or cruise ship caller and instead, he got a "Ah, hello, Mr. Parker" like a freaking ransom call. He was about three seconds away from slinging his way home and scavenging the house for aunt May. But no, it was an H.I employee here to tell him that his resume had been good enough to get in. The guy tried to flatter him into believing he was one of the special ones or something- which he wasn't, they must have accepted about thirty more people- but it was still an accomplishment that he was proud of.

But then he thought of how weird it was for a fortune 500 establishment like that to call him, a broke teenager. Surely they don't have that much time on their hands to have a pleasant chat with their thousands of employees, right? So before he knew it, he was scared again. Horrified, even, at the possibility that this was Flash's poor attempt at humor and pranks. And that telling him about where he applied to was his new biggest mistake. So he interrogated a little, pressing a little harder whenever the man tried to direct him to a new topic of conversation. He was so close to yelling a string of curses at 'Flash' and hanging up when all of a sudden he got the email.

You don't know how hard it was to hold back his third coughing fit, so he settled for his other coping mechanism for shocking situations. Which was rambling to a person until their ears started bleeding. This whole conversation was an embarrassment, really. But hey, at least he has a job now. And if he's lucky, he might end up with two.

Shaking himself out of his stupor, he swiped his MetroCard and made his way up to the platform, sitting down on a bench as he waited for his train ride home. Peter then allowed himself to more thoroughly examine the email he received, as he had really only looked at the sender and the words 'accepted' before continuing his conversation with Mr. Price. He scrolled through the letter, skipping over all the cheesy welcome messages and pledges that they felt the need to include. Finally, he found what he was looking for, the section regarding his income.

He wouldn't exactly compare himself to Mister Crabs when it came to his greediness, but he was pretty much desperate for this money. The amount he made would directly affect the number of shifts May would have to take at the hospital, she already worked way too many to support both of them. The rent, utility bills, textbooks, and food budgets all added up, and his super-speed metabolism didn't help. So if he had the chance to make things just a little bit easier for her, he'd take it.

He started at the beginning of the paragraph and read it over. Technically Hammer Industries isn't required to pay him any money, due to him being a student and this being a position which is meant to give him experience, and in the beginning, they actually didn't pay interns. But apparently, after Justin Hammer found out Tony was paying his interns, he started paying his too. For the first time in Peter's life, he was grateful for their childlike grudge against each other. Of course Tony pays his people more, but that's to be expected of him.

We get paid by the hour since we're part-time, the wages might be altered in the future given the circumstances, any expenses that are required by this position will be covered by the company, etcetera etcetera. God, so many words. His eyes scanned each and every line like a robot, searching for a dollar sign or a number or just anything related to money in general. Then he came across the second to last line and stopped. He read the line again, then again, then one more time for good measure, and proceeded to enter a violent coughing fit.

He felt like hacking his guts out. But you know what, that's okay. He can afford a transplant now. Because he makes $15 an hour, works four days a week, and has a position lasting over six months, maybe more if he proves himself worthy. Peter was so elated with this recent development that he'd almost missed the train, quickly shouldering his backpack and slipping between the closing doors. He then took an empty seat right at the corner of the cart and pressed his head against the cool metal bars.

He'd have to text Ned about this, MJ too if she didn't already block his number after he sent that star wars meme. He was about to read more of the email from H.I when all of a sudden he got another notification from the mail app. Curious, he tapped on it, and realized he was fed up with coughing fits.

It was from Stark Industries, regarding his employment status and whether he got in or not. Peter took a deep breath and reminded himself that either way, no matter the results, he still had a job. He could still help aunt May and get working experience for his resume. Sure, this is his dream company which is owned by his childhood- and I guess teen hood?- idol, but it's not that important to him, is it?

Oh who is he kidding, it's important to him. Without another thought or hesitation, he scrolled through the letter and scoured every paragraph to find what he was looking for. Cheesy company mottos, shameless product promotions, a brief history of Howard Stark- which is weird? That's weird, right?-, and finally, his acceptance.

Well actually, rejection.

'Thank you very much for your interest in employment opportunities with Stark Industries September Foundation.  
This message is to inform you that we have selected a candidate who is a match for the job requirements of the position.  
We appreciate you taking the time to apply for employment with our company and wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors.  
Best regards,  
Eleanor Nelson'

At least they softened the blow, but that didn't do anything to help the disappointment swirling in the pit of Peter's stomach. He didn't make it in, he wasn't good enough to make it in. Were his calculations wrong? Were they annoyed by his responses to the interview questions? Was there some random demerit on his behavior record that he wasn't aware of? Or did they just take one look at his name and immediately detect his uselessness.

Sighing, Peter closed his eyes, not worrying about missing his stop. It's not like this is the end of the world. Sure, it was a huge hit to his half-dead ego, but he's not completely empty-handed. Perhaps two jobs would have been too much to handle, one is enough for now.

His childhood hero might have deemed him unfit for this job, but Peter was going to do everything in his power to prove him wrong. To prove his worth.

>>>>> <<<<<

It's been three hours since Tony had come down to the lab, and he's already ransacked his entire instant coffee supply in there. He'd ask Dum-E to go make him some, but knowing the little bot he'd end up in the hospital with motor oil in his system. Sometimes he wondered if Dum-E was there to assist him or assassinate him. But that's not the point.

The point is that after three hours he's already made every adjustment he could think of to his stark phones, they were probably set for another few months after his nonstop work session today. But that's not always a good thing, because now Tony is bored out of his mind and left alone with his thoughts. And whenever he's left alone with his thoughts, one of the avengers ends up with damaged pride and a newfound insecurity that they weren't yet aware of but was pointed out to them by the one and only Tony Stark. So he needed to find something to build, and fast.

Roaming across the lab, trying to find a little inspiration, his eyes landed on the holographic table and he got an idea. All of those intern files were computerized, they had to be in this day and age. And if he remembers correctly, there was a question on the assessment about what projects these kids would do if they were rich or something. There has to be something weird in there, right? They may be stupid, but at least they're entertaining.

He walked up to the table, doing the hand motions that were practically ingrained in his brain to pull up Stark Industries data base. Public Relations > Projects > September Foundation > Applicants. Perfect. Tony hovered his index finger in front of the pictures and names before finally settling on the person perfectly in the middle.

"Well, let's see what you got, Daniel Stewart," he scrolled down to his response to the question, "Really? A portable toilet? I know I said stupid was amusing but this is just unsanitary." He went to the next one.

"Melanie Ortega, pens that have caps that double as eating utensils," he let out a sigh, "Yeah this is gonna take a while."

The next twenty minutes were spent combing through the worst ideas he had ever seen. A quarter of them already existed, half of them were just two inventions merged together, and the rest seemed like they could have worked if the person actually knew what they were talking about when they described how they'd do it. And they have the nerve to wonder why he doesn't trust high schoolers. Tony was about to give up and settle on the tie with a flask invention, because at least that's useful to himself, when all he saw something on the holo table. He'd almost missed it, but right there was the file of Peter Parker.

Well, Tony thought, there's no harm in checking it out. He tapped on it and let the computer direct him to Peter's response, and then he just stared. Well, this was... interesting.

Synthetic webbing? Jeez, what kind of person just thinks about that on a daily basis. At first, Tony was a little disappointed by the idea. Sure it was creative but did Parker actually have any idea what he was doing? No, he thought, he's probably clueless. But then he read the explanation. The in-depth summary of this invention, the chemical breakdown of the substance, all the possible uses and pros of it; all of it was way too advanced for a fifteen-year-old. He needed to know more.

Tony abandoned his previous goal of building something, all that mattered now was learning more about this random teenager. Everything in the science portion was correct and provided with clear work, all his answers to the interview were straightforward and useful, his grades were all A's, and his record was squeaky clean. Not to mention he was the long-running first place winner for every science fair.

He knows he hates children, but this kid... even Stark Industries couldn't afford to lose this much potential. Tony's brain was moving a mile a minute. He needed to call someone, some random assistant, and tell them to give this kid an offer. It was only about 5 o'clock, not too late, the kid should be going home right about now if he was at the decathlon thing listed on his resume. Just when Tony was about to call on FRIDAY, he heard the faint dinging of an elevator and the familiar sound of clacking heels. Sighing in relief he ran to the door of his lab, planting himself right in front of a surprised Pepper.

"Pep, honey, sweetie, the woman I couldn't function without-" he cut himself off at her glare.

"Whatever favor you're trying to get me to do, it's not gonna happen." She said, slightly huffing.

"Wha- but you didn't even hear what I was gonna say-"

"I don't care. You've caused me enough stress for one day after you dismissed all the applications." Oh boy is she gonna love this then.

"See but that's the thing!" He exclaimed, placing his hands on her shoulders as he slightly shook them with excitement, "I dismissed all of them earlier, yes, but after I went through the files when I was trying to use their horrible invention ideas-" Pepper let out a frustrated growl.

"I get it, Tony, you didn't like the high schoolers. No need to rub it in my face." Wait no, he didn't mean it like that. He had to fix this misunderstanding. Tony was only able to open his mouth a fraction of an inch before Pepper continued. "And although I disapprove, it's still technically my job to follow your orders. So I told Miss. Heralds at the front desk to send out the rejection letters. She lost her badge by the way. Anyway, I hope you're happy." She finished her rant, but Tony was no longer listening. She sent out the emails already? He thought he still had some time left. Was... was he too late?

Pepper must have noticed his frozen body and unusual silence since her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Tony..." she began, "What exactly were you going to ask me to do earlier?" He stayed silent, the situation could only get worse from here.

"Tony!" She pressed, way louder than the first time. And that was enough to shake him out of his tense position.

"Ah, jeez! Whatever, it's not important." Pepper narrowed her eyes even more after that statement.

"Well, now I know it's important if you're denying it." Okay, rude. But she's not wrong. He let out a deep sigh and muttered something incomprehensible under his breath.

"Sorry? Couldn't hear that." Pepper said. He said it again, a little louder this time but still impossible to decipher.

"Tony!"

"Fine! I was gonna ask you if you could send an email to Peter Parker letting him know he's been accepted to the September Foundation program." The silence that surrounded both of them after he finished his sentence was deafening. He didn't look up from the ground, too terrified of the expression he might see on Pepper's face. It was only when he heard a slow intake of breath did he realize, this. This was Pepper's villain origin story. He had officially driven her to the edge and now it would become her life's mission to destroy him and his entire black coffee supply.

"So you're telling me," she started, grasping onto whatever control she had left of her temper, "that you- you actually want to hire an intern. To work at this company." She was facing him, but it seemed like she was in a completely different world. Her eyes were unfocused and she was rubbing circles around her temples, trying to make sense of the situation. He wanted to say something, but this felt more like a one-sided reprimanding session.

"I came to you no more than four hours ago with a stack of applications and I gave you the time to look them over, just to see if you were interested in hiring anyone. In which case you obviously weren't- you said you weren't." Yeah, big mistake on his part, "You looked me in the eye, complained about some flavor of ice cream, and dismissed all of them."

"But now, only after the rejections have been sent out, do you tell me that you actually want to hire someone." Okay, maybe now is the time to speak up. He opened his mouth, and effectively closed it as a polished nail stuck itself in his face.

"And don't you dare hold me accountable for this, Tony, just because I didn't check in on you an hour later doesn't mean it's my fault. I've known you long enough to see that every argument you get into is just a blame game." She wagged her finger, "I couldn't have possibly known that you would put some second thought into this. After all, these are high schoolers, and you repeatedly state how much you hate the 'tiny gremlins' as you call them." Well, he didn't hate them, per se, but-

"So I don't know what you want me to do with this new development. The emails to the applicants have been distributed as of thirty minutes ago, there's no going back now." Wait, no. No no no no no.

"Isn't there something else we could do?" She scoffed at the word 'we' but didn't comment on it, "It's not that late in the day yet, there should still be enough time to make a second offer."

"So what if there is, Tony? Do you honestly think he would accept now after just being rejected? He's probably salty about it, and that saltiness isn't gonna go away any time soon. If it were me, I'd reject the offer just out of spite for the company."

"This isn't just any company though, this is Stark Industries. We're practically the best in everything science-related. He'd have to be a fool-" Which he isn't, god damnit the kid's a prodigy, "- to turn this down."

"I think you're underestimating the pettiness of a teenager, it's a powerful thing and clouds all sense of logic."

"What if we contacted his school, Midtown High," Pepper's eyes widened slightly when he was actually able to remember a detail about someone's life other than his own, "Schools aren't allowed to be petty, right? We could get the kid's teachers to make him listen to logic and acknowledge that this opportunity is a once- well I guess twice in a lifetime kind of thing!" Pepper shook her head at him.

"It's too late, all the students' emails have also been sent to their respective schools' guidance counselors. The schools can't make them do anything, it's up to the kid now. And since he'll obviously say no, there's no use." Tony groaned, he wasn't used to this. If he was ever in a tight spot, there was always an alternative way out. But now? He was officially stuck.

"So... there's absolutely nothing either of us can do?" He asked, desperation pooling in the brown hue of his eyes.

"Well, unless you somehow manage to bump into him somewhere and beg for forgiveness, the answer, for now, is no." He dragged a hand down his face and closed his eyes, not willing to accept defeat but also unable to do anything else. He opened his eyes to see Pepper giving him that same curious look with furrowed brows, preparing to say something.

"Say, why are you so interested in this Peter kid?" Crap.

"Huh?" He said dumbly, feigning ignorance.

"Well I mean, we both know you despise children. Not to mention how you hate it when some employee gets in the way of you're building. So why him? What makes this kid any different?" She stared at him with those calculating green eyes. God, now what? He's not some obnoxious parent at a kindergarten PTA meeting, so there's no way in hell he's gonna go bragging about this kid. And even if he did, he didn't have the right to. The boy wasn't his intern, and that's on Tony. Plus Pepper would never stop teasing him if he willingly complimented someone.

"Out of all the incompetent high school applicants, he's the only one who didn't completely suck. That's it."

"That's it?" She echoed, smirking. He rolled his eyes.

"Yes. Not like it matters anymore." He turned around and made his way back to his holo table, hoping to just forget this entire day and go back to inventing and being sleep deprived. Pepper shifted her weight to the other side and adjusted her grip on her bag.

"Well," she cleared her throat, "don't give up just yet. You're Tony Stark after all. A genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist; Conqueror of interns. I'm sure it'll work out somehow." And with that, she turned on her foot and made her way back to the elevator, disappearing behind the metal doors.

Yeah, it'll work out. It always does. The universe seems to like throwing him into a string of crazy events, but at the end of the day he always comes out on top. And hopefully, that's what happens with this, because this might have been the biggest mistake of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And chapter four has come to an end! Thanks to everyone reading, we've already made it so far! I find it funny how many times I've said "application" in the last four chapters. Also, once again, this isn't the end of Tony, Irondad has to get his spiderson back after all :P So don't worry, he's still up and running! Now that I've sorta finished the introduction, the real story is finally kicking off, but that also means I have to plan it out. So future updates might be slower, since the plot is gonna get complicated, or faster, since it's almost Summer vaca. But either way, the story is moving forward! Feel free to leave constructive criticism or anything else you feel like adding in the comments! THANKS FOR READING! See you next chapter, BYEE! :D


	5. Let's Disappoint Each Other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter prepares, and Justin gets scolded. Featuring: Darla!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, ITS BEEN SO LONG ;-;. I really did mean to post a chapter sooner, but Summer vaca started and I've been a bit more busy. So sorry for the long delay! But I'm back and better than ever :D In other news, OVER 2K READS?!?!? WE'VE ACCOMPLISHED SO MUCH! Thank you to everyone who read, commented, left a kudos, or bookmarked this story! Anyway, here's chapter 5! (P.S it's shorter than usual, but I wanted to publish something to show I haven't abandoned the story. So the next chapter should be out soon!)

"You look like you're going to a funeral."

Peter paused in the action of straightening his tie in favor of glaring at Ned. Yeah, he was wearing a black suit and tie. And yeah, he was considering wearing a handkerchief in his pocket. But did that classify as funeral attire? ...Probably. He let out a sigh of defeat and retreated to his closet, rifling through his remaining outfits. Which by the way weren't that many, he mostly just wears the same seven outfits every week and switches up the order. No wonder he gets bullied.

"But then again, considering who you're working for," Peter gave him the side-eye, curious as to where he was going with this, "that may not be as far fetched as you think." Okay, that's it.

"Seriously, Ned? I'm over here having a fashion crisis and all you've done so far is insult my life choices." He took off his blazer and button-up and exchanged it for a Thor hoodie, turning to Ned for approval.

"I'm trying to lighten the mood! You're clearly very anxious and as you're best friend," Ned paused, roamed his eyes up and down over his new hoodie, and shook his head, "it's my job to distract you from dark thoughts. Also, that hoodie just screams fanboy."

Yeah, Ned was right. It would be weird to wear avengers merch to Tony's rival's company. They'd take one look at him and throw him out the door, thinking he was a traitor or something, secretly working for Stark Industries. He mentally scoffed, as if anyone would think he's good enough for that company, the rejection letter he got last week was proof enough that he wasn't. He shook his head, reminding himself to forget about that.

"Well I need to wear  _ something,  _ the job starts at 9 o'clock and I still need thirty minutes to get there. That gives me only an hour to get ready." He really should have planned his outfit the night before.

"You're overthinking this! It's just an internship, no one's expecting you to show up looking like a CEO, they're expecting a nerdy, sloppy teenager." Ned... assured? If that even counted as assuring.

"So basically what I wear every day, but more extreme and with a badge." Peter thought out loud. What could possibly be more extreme than what he usually wears? He's already received enough complaints from Flash about how it physically pains him to read his horrible chemistry jokes every day. Anything more extreme might put the guy in his grave.

"Exactly! Peter with the volume turned up."

Peter with the volume turned up. Okay, he could work with that. He took off his current outfit and exchanged it for black jeans and a science pun t-shirt saying 'What do you call a fish made out of two sodium atoms? 2Na.' That probably would have been enough, but Peter wasn't going to risk it. He grabbed a blazer and shrugged it on, hearing Ned's exasperated groan.

"What?" Peter let out an undignified squawk, "I need to have at least some semblance of professionalism." He could whine as much as he wanted, but he and Ned both knew that was impossible. Ned stood up from the bed and grabbed Peter's messenger bag, rummaging through it to make sure he had everything that he needed. Life's pretty sweet when you're best friend is your part-time mom. Pencils, pens, a notebook, his ID, and a... is that a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with the crusts cut off? In any case, time was running out. Once Ned was satisfied with his search, he shoved the bag in Peter's chest and said, in the most serious voice he could muster, "God speed."

What even was his life anymore? With an equally as dramatic salute from Peter, the spider vigilante shrugged on the bag and ran out the door, yelling a quick "Bye Aunt May!" as he left.

He skipped up the stairs once he arrived at the train station, passing by the usual people. The guy named Nick who smokes by Peter's building and has a dream of going to art school, Susie the pre-med student who's currently filing a lawsuit against her old roommate, and then there's Marge, the old lady who gives him a free cranberry muffin on Saturdays. It shouldn't come as a surprise but you can learn a lot about your neighbors when they're the only ones around at night to see you crawl through your window after patrol. He's not gonna lie, it was some of the most incriminating conversations of his life.

Swiping his card and hurriedly claiming a seat on the W train, he pulled up google maps to make sure he had the right place. Luckily there were at least a few delis among the many high-class restaurants uptown, which was a blessing to his half-dead wallet. And while sometimes it pained him to be eating a bag of chips at 7-11 as some businessman was devouring his lobster, he could always just stalk by their door and enjoy the smell. And living a life as pitiful as his, that's good enough for him. But just as he was about to put his phone away, a little icon caught his eye, placed only eight blocks away from Hammer Industries.

He zoomed in. Then a little more. And then a little more. And then proceeded to draft his will.

The damn icon represented Stark Industries. You know, that company that hates him? Well, they didn't exactly hate him but they might as well, given all the pain and suffering they've caused him. Three nights spent crying on the sofa eating ice cream while watching a Star Wars marathon, you would've thought he went through a painful breakup. Actually, in a sense, he did. He ended his 16-year long relationship with delusion.

This was going to be a pain, wasn't it? He's going to pass by that horribly amazing building every day and be reminded of his failure. His failure to be the best, or at least good enough. Is this how Justin Hammer feels. Disappointment and envy clouding his features as he sits in his office and gets a first-class view of Tony Stark's, the unstoppable force's, empire. Jeez, no wonder he unleashed an army of robots on him. Peter may not agree with Justin's way of life (Yeah he definitely didn't, he doesn't condone the attempted murder of thousands of people), but he could relate with the sheer amount of pettiness.

He stared at his phone the rest of the ride, refusing to look out the window even once, beautiful view be damned. He reminded himself that he was working at Hammer tech, not Stark Industries. But still, he can't help but hope that if he didn't raise his head, he could ignore reality for a little longer.

>>>>> <<<<<

Justin has made many mistakes in his life, we've already covered this. There's no need to repeat or discuss the indisputable. But despite this fact, he knows that Peter Parker wasn't one of them. Hiring Peter Parker was a tactful decision and although their company would be losing another decimal point of money to pay his new salary, this was by no means a mistake.

The Hammer Industries Internship Foundation committee didn't seem to agree.

And that's what brings him to this very moment. Sitting in a chair before a desk like a kid waiting to get scolded by the principal, as if he wasn't the CEO and founder of this company. To the right of him was his middle-aged employee and head of the program, Darla. She paced back and forth with closed eyes, muttering a string of curses under breath. Finally, she stopped pacing and turned to face him, but keeping her eyes closed. Almost like having to look at him would cause her to lose her grasp on whatever's left of her temper.

"So let me get this straight," Darla began, pinching the bridge of her nose, "you hired a teenage intern for this program without consulting the members of this committee who's responsibilities fall under that category. You ignored several protocols including, and certainly not limited to, negotiating salary, covered expenses and insurance, background checks-"

"Hey hey hey, hold on," For the love of god, what was he doing?! Darla's gonna rip him a new one for interrupting her, "I did do a background check on him, the kid's spotless. Straight A's, decathlon team, and only a few unexcused absences." Obviously, he hadn't said the right thing, because her closed eyes were now wide open, piercing him with a disbelieving stare.

"That's all well and good, Mr. Hammer, but that's not what I meant," Pardon? "That's his school record, not his criminal one. We don't care how many absences he has, we care about what he's doing during those absences." She thought Peter was a criminal? Yeah, right. What harm could the kid even do, ramble someone to death? From all his stuttering and nonstop apologies on the phone, he could tell that this kid couldn't hurt a fly even if he tried. If anything, they should be checking Justin's criminal re- Uh, but that's not the point right now.

"Then why can't you do one right now?" He asked, "Just look up his name and get it over with, not like there's anything on there, anyway." She shot him a tight smile filled with malice and moved to sit down at her desk.

"It's not that we can't do that, Mr. Hammer, it's the fact that we're only doing it  _ after  _ you hired him." She ran both hands through her cropped, black hair, "I understand that you're our superior, but for us to do the jobs you hired us to do, we need to be informed about these things." Ohh, right. For a second he forgot he was the bad guy. Darla lifted her head and suddenly the fury filled glare was gone, replaced with professionalism. Wow, that took skill.

"In any case, we have to prioritize." She clicked her pen and positioned it over her clipboard, ready to write. "How much does he make an hour?" Okay, this is good, finally something he knows how to respond to.

"$15 an hour." Darla paused, pen still hovering.

"I'm sorry, only $15?" She looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. That's new, usually, it was Justin who had no idea what was going on. "Don't intern usually get paid like $20?"

"Usually, but that's only because they email complaints for about an hour over the $15 until we give in and make it $20." Yeah, he wasn't so happy about the lack of willpower his employees had when giving out salaries. Like people, c'mon, it's his money their spending.

"And how long does he work?" She inquired

"Four days a week, Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday." He thought that was an awful lot for a fifteen-year-old. Don't they go to school football games and bars every night with fake IDs? Or is he just that out of touch with today's youth. "Works 3 to 4 hours on weekdays and six hours on weekends, "Justin informed her. Darla looked incredulous, her mouth hanging wide open with her jaw almost touching the floor.

"So you're telling me that this Parker kid works more days and more hours than most of our interns, and still gets paid less?" Well when she put it like that, Hammer Industries sounds straight-up evil. "I get he's a highschooler and therefore doesn't require as much money, but still."

"In all honesty, I expected him to email us back. Maybe try to negotiate a larger number. But so far there's only been radio silence on his end." It was a little odd, he has to admit. On the interview portion, it clearly asked if they were open to negotiations about their payment, which Mr. Parker said yes to. So why hasn't he tried to make a compromise with them? Unless, of course, he-

"He thinks the amount you suggested was the highest offer you were willing to give him?" She took the words right out of his mouth.

"But how could he have thought that? $15 an hour is the new minimum wage in America, anything under that would be against the laws, correct?" He fiddled with his watch, deep in thought.

"Yes, but only after the first 90 days. And the law doesn't apply to people who fall under certain exemptions, such as a student worker. So technically, $15 is still well within our rights. We could always pay him more than that but..." She trailed off, but that was okay. They both knew the unspoken words. They had the option of paying him more, but why do that when you could save some money?

"Well," he cleared his throat, "moving on. What other finances are being covered by us?"

"The basics," she flipped around her clipboard to show him what was listed, "One drink and meal from the cafeteria every day, any stationary needed by him, a MetroCard for transportation, as well as any medical expenses should he be injured from our labs. Unless we get him to sign a contract stating we aren't responsible, then we can cross that last one off the list. Speaking of labs, where is he going to be working? Actually, wait, what even is his job here?"

That... is a very good question. What was his job here? Justin had hired him due to his extensive knowledge in the science field, but he was a student. Despite not needing to, the school wants him here to learn. But having him walk around the labs just staring at his employees wouldn't be a good use of time or money, he needed to have a goal, at the very least. Darla, noticing his distress, piped in with her own thoughts.

"What did he write down for his strengths?" She asked.

"He said he had a good memory, can follow direct orders without much struggle or confusion, and can transport multiple objects without dropping anything. The first two I understand, but the last one is admittedly a bit random." He provided.

"Maybe, but maybe not." Pardon? "We could have him be an all-around assistant kind of guy. We could give him a company credit card to take lunch and coffee orders for certain employees, and have him fetch lab equipment too. That way he can put all his skills to use." It did sound like a solution to all their problems, but something was still bugging him.

"I suppose that could work, but what exactly would he be learning from that. There's no doubt in my mind the school is gonna want to check up on him and ask about what he's been doing. If they find out he's just been fetching coffee, they'll pull him out, and I don't want to lose an asset like him." Justin said.

"Why would they pull him out? Isn't fetching coffee a common job for student interns?" She asked.

"Probably, but this is a STEM school. One of the best in Queens, for that matter. There's a reason a high percentage of their students go to Ivy Leagues, it's cause they give them the best education." Darla considered him for a moment, then began to speak.

"Well, then. We could alternate the departments he takes orders for every day, tell him to take notes on his observations. What the employees say and do, chain of command, how deadlines are handled, all that jazz. That'll teach him how a professional workplace functions. As for the actual coffee getting, it'll teach him responsibility. Getting orders correct, delivering them on time, and making sure he uses the company card for company expenses only." Darla gave a smug smile, seemingly proud of her talent of pulling life lessons out of nowhere.

"Wow, then I guess we're good to go!" He cheered, already standing up.

"Not so fast," he shot back down, "I just got the results for Mr. Parker's criminal record." Holy mother of god, how did she get results that fast? Who did she have time to contact? Wait, scratch that, why does she sound so serious? Is he actually a criminal?!

"It came back clean," he sighed in relief, "except for the fact that multiple people had reported seeing him crawl through the window of a building at 2 in the morning." He stopped.

"I'm sorry... but what the actual heck?"

"I'm just as baffled as you are, really. The person who reported him was said to have apologized to the officer, saying it was all a misunderstanding. The apartment belonged to Peter's aunt and guardian, May Parker." Guardian? "The officer on the scene said that when they knocked on May's door, she sighed and closed the door again. And that was the last they heard of the Parker family." She informed him

"If the person who made the call stated it was a mistake, and May Parker didn't press charges, then why is it on his record?" He asked bewildered.

"It's not actually on his record, more of a side note. My best guess is that the officers didn't know how to react, either. But anyway, since Mr. Parker's free to work here, when does he start?" Darla asked

"Oh!" Justin checked his watch, "In thirty minutes."

If looks could kill, he'd be cremated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that concludes chapter 5! Thanks to everyone still reading even though it's been quite a while since I last updated, your AMAZING comments are very much appreciated! And just so everyone knows, I'm going to continue this story. So dw about me randomly disappearing! Also, sorry if this chapter was a little dry and didn't have much content, it was more of a filler to be honest. But besides that, GUESS WHO FIGURED OUT ITALICS! Anyway, see you next chapter! Bye! :-)


	6. Intimidated by Iced Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's first day of work starts. He meets someone who rambles more than him, forms a life bond with a blonde, and gets adopted by every employee he comes across. Justin almost drops dead from a look, Darla gets a moment of peace before jumping into another war, and Tony is once again confused. Featuring: more OCs than I originally planned on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter six has arrived! And actually on time for once. Thanks to everyone who read, commented, left a kudos, or bookmarked previous chapters! WE'RE AT 2835?!? SO MUCH READS IN A WEEK YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME AHH (/^o^)/ Anyway, enjoy!

Peter didn't remember putting his phone away. He didn't remember standing up, getting off the train, and walking to the front steps of Hammer Industries. And he most certainly didn't remember entering the doorway. So when he finally did become aware of his actions and surroundings, he crashed and burned.

"Ack!" Was the only thing his mouth could say when he stumbled through the revolving doors, needing a few seconds to get his balance and regain his footing. Once he was sure his body wouldn't be doing any more random gravity checks, he finally looked up. And boy, did he not regret it.

The entire interior design of the lobby could only be described as pristine. The marble floors were spotless, the walls were practically glass, there was a statue of Justin Hammer-  _ there was a statue of Justin Hammer.  _ That's- no, yeah, that's weird. There were plants everywhere, lord knows how they got there, and best of all, there was a Starbucks café. Not that he could afford it, but still. He at least had the option of getting Starbucks one day if he ever got the money.

About a full minute had passed before Peter realized he should stop his ogling and get a move on, making his way over to the front desk. It was there he came face to face, or rather face to the back of the computer, with the receptionist. Who, according to his golden nameplate, was Christian Davis. Mr. Davis' rapid typing went on for a few more seconds until finally, it ceased and he lifted his head, Peter took that as his cue to begin.

"Hi! I'm, uh, Peter. Parker. I'm here for the Hammer Industries Internship Foundation program?" Wow, nice going Parker. It sounds like you weren't even sure what your own name was. And if only to fuel Peter's anxiety, Mr. Davis still gave no notion of speaking. So he continued. "And- and I read the email they sent me, but all it said was that I'd be getting my badge. And I don't exactly know where to get that. So I was hoping that maybe.. you'd... know?" Annnndd now he was undermining the integrity of their company by implying the emails they sent out were uninformative. God, can the floor just swallow him up already?

Mr. Davis just stared at him with empty, brown eyes, occasionally blinking. Vaguely, Peter wondered if he had already managed to get one employee to hate him in the span of one minute. That his first impression was over and done with and that no matter how hard he tried, there was no coming back from this. Maybe Mr. Davis was the apex predator around here, and whatever opinion he had of the brown-haired child would spread like the plague to everyone else in the office. To his superior, even. Bless his soul, he'd be fired on his first da-

"Wow, I'm sorry about that!" Peter flinched in surprise from the sudden burst of noise that came from the man behind the counter. "I haven't had my coffee yet so it's taking me twice as long to process everything. I swear I'm like that sloth from Zootopia. And I would have gotten a drink from Starbucks but frankly, I'm annoyed that they expect me to have the budget for that. Like seriously, we can't  _ all _ be made of money and own our own companies. I got rent to pay and cats to feed! Ugh,  _ the audacity. _ " Huh, okay. Apparently, Peter is going to have to reanalyze his view of Mr. Davis. Because instead of a stoic museum statue, he's essentially an older, more mature Peter with better social skills. Is this what 'Peter with the volume turned up' truly means? Is this how people felt when he rambled? Poor Ned.  _ Poor MJ.  _ How has she not sucker-punched him into orbit by now? Still, he was glad someone else understood the strange feeling of being intimidated by a café. Mr. Davis was honestly a big-

"Mood." Wait, no. God, please no. Please tell him he didn't say that out loud. Davis paused in his rant to look at Peter with narrowed eyes. So this is where it ends, huh? He survived his first impression only to butcher his second one. But much to his shock, the older man broke into a wide, toothy grin.

"Exactly!" Stop surprising him, Davis, your facial expressions are giving him whiplash. "Glad to have someone who understands on board with this company. If you ask me, everyone here has a huge stick up their a-" Davis finally seemed to remember he was in a working environment and currently speaking to a teenager who just wanted to get going. Davis cleared his throat and had the decency to look at least a bit sheepish.

"Peter Parker, right?" Davis asked as he began typing on the computer again. Peter nodded. "I just need to you to show me the acceptance email you received so I can look you up in the database and verify your position, then I can get you your badge." Peter, glad to finally know what's going on and what he was supposed to, plucked his phone from his pocket and pulled up the email he received from Hammer Tech, showing it to the receptionist. Davis thanked him and continued typing, a whirring noise beginning to come from the printer behind him. After a few minutes, Davis laminated the newly printed badge, added a small clip through the hole, and passed it on to Peter. Peter, taking the card with a small smile and turning it over, examined the words written on it.

_ Peter Parker _

_ Security Level: Theta _

_ Hammer Industries _

As well as a picture from his school yearbook. He didn't particularly like how he looked in it, but at least it looked better than his sophomore picture. Back then, every photo of him looked like he had a gun pointed to his head and was threatened into smiling. Inwardly grimacing, he looked back up at Mr. Davis.

"So you may have noticed the word 'Theta' next to your security level," Peter nodded, he admitted being a little curious about what it meant, "Well that's the second to the lowest level of security that Hammer Industries has. The order from lowest to highest is Delta, Theta, Beta, Alpha. Delta is for janitors, warehouse workers, paparazzi and lunch workers, Theta is for interns and low-level employees such as yourself, Beta is for the department heads and board members, and finally, level Alpha is for Justin Hammer-" Peter choked.  _ Right,  _ Peter thought,  _ I forgot Mr. Hammer basically lives in this building.  _ The probability of this happening wasn't high, but if Peter ever happened to bump into the man, he'd majorly freak out. And not in a good way like he would with Tony Stark. No matter how much money Mr. Hammer’s company gave him, it doesn’t change the fact that he almost  _ killed _ him with a drone.

Davis laughed at his reaction and continued. “There are about 50 floors in this building, but currently you can only access floors 1-30 and the lobby. Though the amount may change depending on what your job here actually is." Oh right, Peter still had no clue what he was supposed to do here. "So now that you're all set you can just walk through those scanners, make sure you leave out all metal objects first, and it'll scan your badge. Then you're gonna use the elevator to go to the 25th floor where Darla will be waiting for you, she's the head of the Foundation, and she'll give you all the directions. See you later Parker, break a leg." He just might, maybe that'll get him out of this.

Peter walked through the scanners with a pep in his step, but whether they were from nerves or excitement, he didn't know. All he knew was that the moment he stepped into this elevator, his fate was sealed. Okay, yeah, that's a bit too dramatic. He's just starting a job, this isn't some ancient prophecy. Shaking his head to rid himself of those thoughts, he faced the elevator again and paused. The door to this elevator was a shiny gold instead of the usual sleek silver that the other ones had. What made this one so special? And why was the blonde lady in the corner frantically swiping her clipboard across her neck like she was slitting her own throat? She looked distressed, but it was obviously in Peter's sake, as she was looking him straight in the eyes.

He furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head, showing his clear confusion. The lady only grew more stressed and started mouthing words to him, switching back and forth from pointing at the golden elevator he was in front of to the silver elevator she was next to. So this was about the elevators?! He was right to suspect something, then. He tried to determine what words she was mouthing. He caught a few, them being 'gold', 'silver', 'wrong', 'personal', and 'run'. Wait, run? why would he-

He was shaken out of his stupor by the sound of the golden elevator dinging. He had to figure this out, and fast. The elevators were the same size, had the same two buttons on the outside, had the same metal plates above the- wait a second. He squinted, staring at the golden plate to try and make out the words. Per...Personal elevator to Ham... Hammer? Wait-

The realization hit him like a speeding train, and his eyes widened almost comically. The reason this elevator was gold and not silver, why the woman was waving her hands like a psycho telling him to run, it was because this wasn't meant for employees. It was meant for the CEO.

The door to the elevator started opening and Peter caught a glimpse of the man inside. Grey suit, a golden watch, loafers on his feet that probably cost more than his rent; Mr. Hammer. Peter booked it to the blonde lady, who was now standing one foot out and one foot in the silver elevator across the room. She made a back and forth gesture with her hands, beckoning him to sprint like his life depended on it, which it probably did. He made it to the elevator just as Mr. Hammer stepped out, and together with the blonde lady they pressed their respective floors and dove out of sight. It was only when the door closed did they let out a breath they didn't know they had been holding.

The blonde looked at him. "Lana Russel. Theta."

"Peter Parker. Theta." He returned the favor.

They stared into each other's eyes and nodded, as if reading each other's thoughts. And at that moment they both knew, a pact of friendship to last a lifetime had been formed.

>>>>> <<<<<

Justin stepped out of the elevator, confused as to what just happened.

The last thirty minutes had been torture for Justin, but he guessed he deserved it. They only had so much time before Peter showed up and it was spent getting everything ready. He'd sent his assistant out to get all the materials Peter needed, and he himself had to gather up all the department heads to tell them what was going on today and who'd they be meeting. And after a firm talking to from Darla about having to tell her these things in advance, he'd finally been freed. And boy did he want a Starbucks coffee after that mess.

But the first thing he saw once he reached the lobby was not, in fact, the café but rather a ninja. Well maybe not a ninja, but it might as well be. The random brunette ran as fast as a bullet train to the other end of the room before slipping into the silver elevator, and he's not even exaggerating. Is he some superhuman or something? Why was he even in front of his personal elevator in the first place? And why, for the love of god, does Davis at the front desk look like he's going to spontaneously combust from laughing? Ugh, whatever. He doesn't have the mental capacity to deal with this right now, he just wants to get his coffee.

And that's exactly what he did, heading over to the Starbucks café and ordering the largest size of iced coffee he could find. And if he felt Davis glaring at the back of his head while he took out his cash to pay, then he was none the wiser.

>>>>> <<<<<

Once Lana got off on her floor, though not without sharing another dramatic look of friendship, Peter felt himself lose a bit of nerves and become a bit more confident, straightening his back and squaring his shoulders.

Yes, the elevator incident-  _ he says incident like it didn't happen just three minutes ago _ \- was embarrassing and could have ruined everything, but it didn't! He might have needed a bit of help getting out of that but all that mattered was that he'd gotten through it and avoided a potential disaster. And he had a couple of people on his side now! So who's to say that he can't handle Darla's orientation?

He stepped out of the elevator once he reached the 25th floor and was met with the sight of Darla, who was leaning against the front desk holding a stack of papers. It might have just been him, but she looked like she'd been to hell and back in the span of a few minutes. His enhanced vision allowed him to see the beads of sweat that had formed on the top of her forehead and were now rolling down along jawline. She honestly looked like she was done with life.

Darla fixed her posture and flattened out her blazer, shooting him a tired yet genuine smile. He returned it with a small smile of his own, albeit a bit wobbly.

"H-hi, um, are you Ms. Darla?" She nodded, and he breathed a sigh of relief, happy that his assumption had been correct. "Oh, good! I'm Peter Parker, the, uh, the new intern. Mr. Davis told me to meet you here." She smiled

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Parker, as Christian probably told you I'm the head of the Foundation committee. Now we know you were sent an email from H.I but we wanted to discuss a few more details with you regarding your position. Normally we would have an assistant do this but since you're the only one who was hired, I figured I might as well give you the orientation myself." Peter swore his heart skipped a few beats when she'd said that, his eyes going so wide the air conditioning in the room started to sting them. He thought the man on the phone last week had been lying to him about being the only one accepted, maybe as some last-ditch attempt to flatter him. He doesn't know why the man tried to boost his ego but that was hardly the point, the point is that he was telling the truth. And Peter didn't know how to react to that.

Judging by the surprise on Darla's face, it seems she's surprised too, but rather at the fact that Peter didn't know. Nevertheless, she quickly collected herself and held up the stack of papers, beginning to file through them and explain each one. "Here is a map of the entire establishment, here's a welcome pamphlet giving a sort of rundown of the place, although I'll be giving you the tour today," Well that's good news, getting lost on his first day might be normal to most but he'd still prefer to avoid it. "and here's a list of restaurants, cafes, and stores around this area, in case you need a place to go during your break." Yeah, like he could afford it. Peter paused.  _ Oh wait, _ he thought, _ he could afford it. He has a job now _ . Shaking his head, Peter tuned back into what Darla was saying.

She led him out of the hallway area and into the main room, which was very large by the way. "First things first, here is the cafeteria, accessible to all employees. Given your position, H.I covers your expenses for one meal and one drink per day, but you can bring money if you want more, or bring your own food to eat." He'll definitely need more food than what they can provide him for free, superhuman metabolism and all that jazz. But one thing's for sure, no way in hell is he going to be eating in this room, he'd rather eat in the bathroom over this. All these people bustling around, chatting in every area, the stench of diverse foods, he's bound to have a sensory overload if it continues like this.

Darla led him out of the room and back into the elevator, and he gladly followed. They got off on the 24th floor, which, although much less crowded, was still filled with energy. Employees in lab coats pacing around the room holding computers and talking animatedly with each other, women in dresses yelling at people on the phone about shipments, men in suits shoving their briefcases of paper in peoples' faces asking them to sign a document, the list goes on. Oh god, is this what his job is going to be? Is he going to have to harass his superiors about paperwork? What are they even shipping?!

Darla seemed to notice his complete and utter confusion, paired with sheer panic, and got right into her explanation.

"Given that you're in high school, it's to be expected that you don't understand certain workplace jargon. If you did then this internship would be pointless." That was reassuring, at least. "Therefore, your job requires some multitasking. You'll be doing some basic assistant duties, while simultaneously observing the workplace environment. You'll take coffee and food orders from certain departments and employees, deliver equipment and paperwork, get said paperwork signed, and make occasional phone calls." That... sounded like a lot. But also strangely fun? "Any materials or guidance you need to complete these tasks will be provided to you, but, ideally, you'll eventually get the hang of it."

Darla then reached into her pocket and brought out a slick, shiny credit card.  _ Credit card.  _ "This," she held up the piece of plastic, "is your company card. To be used exclusively for your job of taking food and drink orders. Take good care of it." And with that, she handed him the card.

Peter looked at the card like it had the answers to the universe written on it, and held it like it would break into a million pieces if it was jostled too roughly. He silently made a promise to whatever god there was that he would protect said card with his life. And it might have just been his mind playing tricks on him, but he swore he saw praising look on Darla's face when he'd said his silent prayer. He looked back up at her.

"I won't let you down, Ms. Darla!"

"I should hope not," ahaha 'cause that's not threatening at all, "Now, how does meeting your new superiors sound?"

>>>>> <<<<<

Darla recounted the recent events with a fond smile playing over her lips. She'd taken Peter around the different floors for a while, introducing him to the employees that he'd be working under, and having them give him a rundown of what their sector's purpose was. The employees had only been in Peter's company for a few minutes at most for each person, but she could tell that they were willing to die for him after one conversation. The kid was just so jumpy, it vaguely reminded her of an excited puppy. And while for any other kid it may have seemed like they were just bored out of their minds, and that they wanted to leave the office as soon as possible, she could tell Peter was a different case. He may not have realized it, but she took note of how his eyes followed the movements of the workers while they talked, paying close attention, and hanging off their every word. She could see his hand barely restraining itself from reaching into his bag, fighting the urge to whip out his notepad and jot down everything being said. She didn't know where Justin found this kid, but she sure as hell wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

She would have liked to stay longer, but a call from her coworker in Public Relations had her leaving Peter in another department head's care and waving them goodbye. Now that the Foundation had been handled, it was time for them to move on to their next project, the Hammer Industries annual gala. Which coincidentally also has to do with the foundation.

Despite the Stark Expo being over five years ago, their reputation still hadn't made a full recovery. And believe her, she's not complaining, she knows full well that they deserve whatever bad press comes their way. She's still not sure how Justin isn't in prison yet. But given the fact that her entire job revolves around improving the way H.I is seen by the public, she has the right to be at least a little annoyed at her failing efforts. She doesn't want it to be perfect, it doesn't need to be, but she would appreciate it if her attempts came back a little more successful, given how much hard work went towards making it happen.

And that brings her to now, where her new top priority is making sure this gala is perfect for all their guests. They have gourmet food prepared by some of the best chefs in the business, they have imported wine and multiple bartenders on retainer, and they even managed to get a few bands to perform before and after their product demonstration. To some, it may seem a bit excessive, but when your guests are all the richest businessmen and women in New York City, you have to live up to some pretty high standards.

The gala has three main objectives. Show off Hammer's new products and reel in some new investors, improve PR by discussing their newest charities and programs, such as the Hammer Industries Internship Foundation, and finally...

...survive a night with Tony Stark.

That's right, Tony Stark is on their guest list, the very top. And in all honesty, how could he not be? You want the richest people in the city to come to your party, you have to start with the obvious. And besides, Stark has connections in every major corporation in North America, not to mention his foreign ones.

That's why their top priority for the gala is to show everyone that they can get through a few hours without a heated fight occurring between two baby billionaires. It's a long shot, but they have to try.

But despite Stark's and Justin's dramatic grudge against each other, there's no real bad blood between the two companies' employees. In fact, their friendship is stronger than ever. They bond over their annoyance with petty grievances and irresponsible founders. And yes, she says founders and not CEO's. Because Pepper Potts is S.I's CEO and although she wouldn't be caught dead saying it in Justin's presence, that woman is her icon. A goddess on earth, if you may. Her being there might just be their biggest shot at preventing a fight since everyone knows she's one of the three people who could tame Stark's immortal sarcasm. With the combined forces of Pepper Potts, Happy Hogan, and James Rhodes, Stark might be civil for once.

So with that in mind, she and the PR department are going to do everything in their power to make the gala a night to remember. She just hopes Justin can do the same.

>>>>> <<<<<

Tony sipped on his new smoothie, given to him by his loyal assistant, Dum-E. Recently he's been teaching him how to make things without adding the unnecessary ingredient of motor oil, and so far the progress has been great. Or at least, whatever qualifies as great for Dum-E. It had what all great smoothies had; A base liquid, protein, fruits, and veggies. The only problem is that Dum-E chose to use orange juice, avocado, strawberries, bananas, and eggplant as their combo.

So if Tony throws up in the next hour or so, no one can blame him.

It was on his third sip-  _ why is he still drinking this monstrosity- _ that he heard a dinging come from his computer, signaling that an email had been sent. Tony, grateful for the distraction that would take his attention away from this god awful drink.

He tapped on the email that came from a... Darla Fledgerson? From Hammer Industries? The heck could they want from me. Tony scrolled past all the useless words which were just three paragraphs of praising him and his company, if it came from Hammer it's nothing but a manipulation tactic. Finally, he reached the bottom of the page and read the text.

_ INVITATION TO HAMMER INDUSTRIES CHARITY GALA _

_ GALA IS IN TWO WEEKS _

_ RSVP _

...What.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andddd that's the end. I was considering leaving Tony out of this chapter but tbh he makes the whole story complete. Can I get a round of applause for Dum-E's efforts? I mentioned the charity gala in Darla's POV and I honestly can't wait to write that chapter because ever since I started this fanfic, that's the part I was most excited to write!!! ALL THE CHAPTERS HAVE BUILT UP TO THAT MOMENT, and it's the start of irondad and spiderson. Sorry if this chapter was a bit cringey at times, writing OCs isn't really my strength. Anyway, thank you for all the comments, they really brighten up my day! See you next chapter, bye!


	7. Ima Need You To Repeat That

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony talks about the gala and makes some plans, Peter gets coffee and almost passes out, and Hammer's voice stays at his usual pitch. Featuring: A concerned Ronaldo, a CONCERNING Lana, and RHODEYYY.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh?? What's this?? CHAPTER SEVEN IN A DAY. I realized just how much free time I have and I really want to get to this gala as soon as possible so here's a very early update! Thanks to everyone who read, left a kudos, bookmarked, or commented on previous chapters! WE PASSED THE 3000 READ MARK (ILY 3000) and it's only getting higher! Anyway, enjoy chapter seven!

Tony liked to think of himself as a smart man. After all, why shouldn't he? His teachers said he was smart, his classmates said he was smart, all those magazines and interviewers said he was smart, and so far Pepper hadn't told him he  _ wasn't  _ smart. He owns his own company and he graduated MIT at 17, so of course, he's bound to be smart, if not a genius, which he is. Agreed? Good.

So why does he feel so dumb?

It's been ten minutes since he received the email from Hammer Industries and he still can't figure out why, for the love of god, they had invited him to their gala. Don't they know about his and Hammer's past? They get along like oil and water and can never be in the same area, so why not just keep them separate? And no, despite what Pepper says, their feud is not a childish petty dispute. This is a decade long battle that Tony is fighting, and winning, in. Or at least he was winning until Hammer got the stupid edge over him with Peter.

Did Hammer know Peter applied to Stark Industries? Did he hack into S.I's servers or something and get the names of all his applicants just so he could poach them for himself? He might not have any evidence, yet, but he wouldn't be surprised if that was the case. God, he is that petty, isn't he? Tony may be a bit snarky, but Hammer is a whiny, corrupt billionaire who's as cold and bitter as, if not more than, the cheap, black coffee he's drinking-  _ wait.  _ Tony paused in his mental rant to look down at his hand, which was now holding a mug of black coffee. The hell did that come from? A person cleared their throat to the left of him and Tony flinched, hard. He turned to catch his culprit red-handed, only to see them smirking at him.

"You know, Tony," Colonel James Rhodes started, "when Pepper said you locked yourself in your lab to work your sorrows away, I expected to see some actual work. But instead," he gestured to Tony's current predicament, "I see you staring at your computer with a look on your face that screams 'I'm going to destroy the world while curling up in a ball all at once'. Not to mention how you didn't even thank me for the coffee, just snatched it up like it was second nature." Tony rolled his eyes at Rhodey's finishing jab.

"Thank you, Platypus, for the delicious,  _ cold,  _ coffee." Now it was Rhodey's turn to roll his eyes. "And just for the record, I am not "working my sorrows away", I'm simply getting a head start on future S.I projects. It's called being efficient." Rhodey snatched back the coffee, and Tony's ashamed to say he would have kept drinking it, even cold.

"Sure, 'cause you of all people would willingly do work without having Pepper force a pen into your hands. But okay, let's say you're working your sorrows away," Tony gave a sigh of relief, and took it back just as quickly, "mind telling me why Pepper thought you were?" He didn't want to tell Rhodey, because in all honesty what was there to tell? He's wallowing in self-pity because of a decision that  _ he _ made. It's his fault, and he has no right to complain, but the look on Rhodey's face told him he wouldn't be leaving till he explained himself. Tony let out a sigh of defeat.

"It's the September Foundation, just some intern I tried to hire." Rhodey raised an eyebrow, "...I didn't hire him." Rhodey didn't look any less confused.

"So you wanted to hire someone, and you decided not to, and now you're depressed about it?" God, well when you say it like that.

"Well yes but also no." Rhodey nodded his head, prompting him to continue, "This kid-" He was immediately interrupted

"Kid?!" Tony decided to pointedly ignore the astonishment in Rhodey's voice, shooting him a glare.

"Yes, kid. This kid applied to the September foundation we started and I rejected him without reading his resume. I took one look at his former boss- who by the way was a cosplaying villain, I stand by my previous statement- and flat out rejected him. Then- five hours later, mind you- I took the time to read his resume. And let me tell you, Platypus, this kid's a genius. He's only in high school-"

"Highschool?!" Rhodey screamed again

"He's only in high school but he's smarter than a good chunk of my employees. He's got potential, yet I threw that asset away. And that's not even the worst part," Tony paused, savoring the final moments before all hell broke loose and he lost whatever remained of his dignity. He took another deep breath and continued. "the kid got accepted to Hammer Industries, S.I's rival." A few seconds pass of Rhodey staring into Tony's eyes, and the next thing he knows his friend is doubled over with strangled wheezing noises escaping his mouth. Tony's jaw hits the ground, shocked, and believe him that doesn't happen often.

"What the hell, Platypus?! I'm giving out my tragic backstory here, you could at least pretend to be sympathetic." He yells, a little annoyed at the mockery his friend was making of his predicament.

"I'm sorry it's just," Rhodey aggressively coughs out another laugh, "god the  _ irony.  _ I feel bad for you Tones, I really do, but you gotta admit that's kind of funny."

Tony shook his head at Rhodey, a deadpan look on his face. "No, no it really isn't." Okay fine, it sort of was, but he'd rather die than admit that right now. Rhodey gave him a crap eating grin- since when did he make that face? That's supposed to be his thing.

"Okay, well, that explains the pity party you got going on down here." He gestures to the cups of instant noodles Tony has that are scattered around the room.  _ Agh _ , Tony thought,  _ I forgot about that.  _ "But I still don't understand why you were spacing out earlier. Unless your soul left your body and retreated to a world where you hired this kid as your intern-" The billionaire shot his friend a deadly glare, and that shut him up real fast.

"That doesn't have anything to do with the kid, Hammer Industries on the other hand..." He trailed off. Rhodey grabbed on of his stools and sat down, scooting himself closer to Tony's area.

"Spill." He really was a teenage girl sometimes, huh?

"H.I, for reasons unknown to me, decided it was a good idea to invite me to their charity gala. I didn't even realize they had any charities, didn't seem like the type. But yeah, they invited me and it's two weeks from now. I mean I'm obviously not gonna go but that still doesn't answer the question of-" Rhodey interrupted, for probably the fifth time today.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa" Rhodey shook his hand in front of his face while closing his eyes as if Tony was a television program on his holographic table and he wanted to rewind or something. "You're not gonna go? Why not?" Pardon?

"Why not? What do you mean 'why not', the man is a criminal! Bribed his way out of jail and got off on a year's probation for a  _ drone attack _ . I wouldn't be caught dead in any of his properties." Tony practically yelled. What was going through Rhodey's mind right now? He couldn't possibly be thinking that this was a good idea.

"Tony, listen," Tony reluctantly nodded, "you're not the only one who got an invitation. I got one, on my way down here I saw Pepper looking at her email, and I bet if you called him up Bruce would tell you he got one too." Wait, what? Why were there so many plot twists today?! "Point is, if they're not only inviting you but people that everyone knows you're close with, then they obviously have something in mind for the gala. Something that requires you to be there."

"How do you know it's not some last-ditch attempt to try and ruin my reputation and relationship with the public. Not that they'd ever been able to pull it off, but still." Let's be honest, Tony is untouchable.

"Because," Rhodey shoved as much emphasis into that word that was physically possible. "they can't afford to. It's been ten years since the... incident."

"It's okay, you can say it like it is. Attempted genocide-" He was cut off by an angry Platypus.

"Tony," he said sharply. "Hammer Industries' reputation still hasn't reached what it used to be, and it probably never will. And despite how much you deny it, H.I isn't stupid enough to make matters worse. This invitation is an olive branch, I suggest you take it. Now, I'm not asking you to forgive him, you shouldn’t, all I want is for you to think of the company. Think about how much worse things would get if you were to reject it.” He hates to admit it, but Tony actually considered sending an RSVP. There was still something bothering him though.

”You know this guy has ulterior motives, right? And that nothing about this apology is genuine?” He asked. Rhodey scoffed.

”Oh please, of course I am. We all are. If that’s really the only thing keeping you from accepting the invite then...” Rhodey smirked, “How about you get some ulterior motives too?” Tony narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

”Ulterior motives? Like what?” He asked, which was a shock to both of them, really. Usually, the only thing Tony looked forward too in these types of events was using it for ulterior motives. But when it came to Hammer, he’s stumped.

”Well, this is an in-house event. There’s bound to be some lower rank employees working the shift there. And think about it, who is someone you know that’s a lower rank employee, intern to be exact, that works at H.I?” Rhodey asked him, eyes twinkling with anticipation. It took Tony no more than a millisecond to understand what his friend was suggesting. And when he did, he mirrored the man’s smirk with one of his own, one filled with a lot more mischief than usual.

”You want me to poach Peter?” His voice was borderline giddy.

”Damn straight. This is a golden opportunity, are you gonna take it?” Rhodey held out his hand, and Tony high-fived it with no hesitation. Nodding with a smile. The smirk dropped from Rhodey’s face and was immediately replaced by relief. “Good, because if not we were gonna have to explain ourselves to Pepper. And lord knows she wouldn’t have given a second thought to our feelings, mercy be damned.” They both shivered, familiar with the undefeatable force that was his fiancé. Rhodey eventually stood up with a small smile.

”I’ll relay the news to her, so get your plan to poach back Peter ready. I admit I'm a little excited to meet the kid. You have two weeks, try not to die from instant noodle overload in the meantime. See you at the Gala!” And with a final ‘Bye Platypus’ from Tony, Rhodey was out the lab doors and on his way back down the elevator.

Tony let out a breath, leaning back against his work table. From an outside perspective, it seemed a little absurd, going through all this trouble for an intern. A high schooler, no less. But what can he say? He wants Peter in his staff, and he'll be damned if Hammer stops him. And besides, how bad could the gala be? He'll have Rhodey, Pepper, Bruce, and Happy by his side if there's even a possibility of something going wrong. And when the five of them combine their strengths, their one heck of a force to be reckoned with. Tony clapped his hands together, feeling energized and renewed, and it's not just from the five cans of Monster energy drinks.

_ Well,  _ Tony thought,  _ time to start the plan. _

>>>>> <<<<<

(ONE WEEK TIME SKIP~ SO THE GALA IS NOW IN ONE WEEK FROM THIS POINT~ THIS SEEMS COMPLICATED BUT YEAH)

"So let me get this straight," Peter flipped back to the first page of his notepad and clicked his pen, "John, you want a peach green iced tea, sweetened, with a bit of lemonade, and an almond croissant. Marley, you want a matcha green tea latte and a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich. Ronaldo, you want a caramel frappuccino and an egg salad sandwich. And Lana, you want a black coffee, large, another black coffee, large, and a- Do you just want four large black coffees?" He looked back up to face Lana, a look on his face that screamed 'I'm not shocked, nor am I disappointed, I'm just depressed that I'm not either of those and can completely relate'. Lana nodded, along with everyone else, and he wrote down the simplified order.

"Hey..." he perked up at Ronaldo's voice, "Are you sure you're okay getting that all on your own? I mean that's seven drinks and three meals, I'm not sure you'll be able to handle all that by yourself without dropping a few." He appreciated the concern, he really did, but it wasn't needed. Peter had been doing this a whole week, and his spider reflexes and natural stickiness were enough to keep him from making a fool of himself as he gathered everyone's orders. In fact, he thinks the baristas at Starbucks gave him a salute the other day as if showing respect to his highly coveted talent of coffee balancing. Besides, he got some practice today at school, with Flash completing his usual Friday agenda of throwing apple cores at him as he balanced five textbooks on his arms. In case you're wondering why he's holding his textbooks, it's because he destroyed his fifth backpack. And frankly, May was getting tired of this.

"Don't worry," Peter smiled, "I can handle it." Ronaldo still didn't look fully convinced, but he kept his mouth shut and accepted that Peter likely wouldn't be backing down anytime soon.

"If you say so..." He did! And with that, he flipped the notebook shut and made his way to the elevator, pressing the button for the lobby once he got inside. Leaning against the cool, metal rail, Peter reflected on his week so far. He'd made a few friends during his coffee runs; businessmen on a time crunch, praising his speedy delivery, sleep-deprived lab heads, grateful for his decision of asking the barista to add extra caffeine to their coffees, and fellow assistants, sharing a look of understanding whenever one of them spent a full two minutes listing all their orders. One person he never met though, despite seeming like the type to be moving around a whole lot, was Carl Price himself. The man who had called him to personally relay the news of his acceptance. Then again, Peter isn't sure if he really wants to meet him. Yeah, the man didn't seem to be offended when Peter had questioned his role as an employee when he got a call first instead of an email, but he didn't want to take any chances.

When Peter finally tuned back into his surroundings, he was already third in line to order for Starbucks.  _ Goddamnit,  _ he mentally yelled,  _ I've gotta stop doing that.  _ Bored out of his mind and waiting for his turn to order, Peter started to involuntarily watch the people around him. It was a habit he developed during his year as a wallflower in 7th grade, and while he had mostly grown out of it, sometimes it bounced back, almost like second nature. His primary target was the man in front of him. He had a pinstriped, dark grey suit and light brown hair, as well a golden watch, which he kept checking every ten seconds. This man was in a rush, sad. Peter's just glad this man came before him, or else he'd be waiting a lot longer than planned.

The man moved up to the newly available counter, and Peter moved up too, waiting for the second counter to be available. He didn't register what the man was saying, only vaguely hearing his voice like the white noise he used during study sessions. And he'd already moved targets, which was now the woman he was waiting to leave. She had platinum blonde hair and a look in her pale blue eyes that said 'Mess with me and I'll kill you'. Either that or he was being dramatic. The only thing that really caught his eye about her was her shoes, which covered the majority of her ankle and then some. Usually, this wouldn't matter, but so far she was the only woman he'd seen with shoes that went up that high. Now that he thinks about it, there's nothing strange about the woman. The only strange person there is him, for paying way too much attention to people's shoes, and for not paying enough attention to the line, which by the way was moving.

Peter ran up to the counter, flashing an apologetic smile to the barista. But luckily it seemed like she was one of the people who'd seen his previous coffee hauls, and simply dismissed his apologies with a smile and a wave of her hand. She thanked her and began reading off his list, and that's when it happened. He noted that the grey-suited man next had abruptly stopped talking in the middle of his order, but he didn't stop listing off items to think about it. Finally, when he was done and all was paid for, he moved to the end of the counter to wait for his drink. The man followed.

Now he knew the man wasn't a criminal or anything, or else H.I would have kicked him out a long time ago, but being a web-slinging vigilante for two years sort of makes you a bit paranoid. And don't get him wrong, that's a useful skill in a fight, but not very convenient in the workplace.

A few minutes pass, and Peter still hasn't turned around to face the man. He doesn't even  _ want  _ to face the man, but his overactive imagination keeps picturing Freddy Krueger and he needs peace. As if the heavens had been listening to his prayers, the barista came over with his food and drinks already ready to go. Quickly, he thanked her and gathered up his stuff, turning around and preparing to make his escape so he will never have to see this man agai-  _ agh! _

Peter got a face full of suit fabric- which by the way he did not enjoy. Stumbling back a few steps, he blinked a little to try and rid himself of the blurriness. Finally, once the halos of light had left his vision, he faced the man he had collided with, and proceeded to pass away.

The man, the one with the gold watch because  _ of course he'd have the money for a gold watch _ , was the one and only Justin Hammer. You know, the CEO and founder of the company? The man who hired him for this internship? The man who released an army of laser-shooting robots? Yeah, him. And Peter didn't know how to react, his veins were filled with eyes and he was frozen in place, so he just stared at the man's glasses with an expression on his face that said 'help help help help help'. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, he wasn't the one to start the conversation.

"Ah," Mr. Hammer smiled and  _ oh my god that's terrifying.  _ "Mr. Parker. A pleasure to meet you, I assume you know who I am?" The CEO stuck out his hand and all he could do was shake it and nod numbly, barely processing anything that was going on. The panic must have shown on his face because Mr. Hammer rose to the responsibility of filling in the awkward silence. "I've been meaning to meet you for a while, given your impressive application, but unfortunately I haven't had the chance with the charity gala approaching next week. But I bet you know all about that." He couldn't even thank him for the compliment because for the life of him he  _ didn't know what the heck was going on.  _ Also, what gala? His brain stopped at that and gave him enough time to say something.

"Oh, uhm, thank you, Mr. Hammer" The man looked relieved that he had finally said something. "But also, what gala are you referring to exactly?" He perked up at the question, eyes twinkling in something he dares call excitement.

"Oh, I'm surprised no one has told you, it's the annual H.I charity gala that's taking place in this building next Friday. Very high class." High class, huh? Can't relate. But... next Friday? Does that mean he's working the event? Turns out he didn't even need to ask.

"Well, I apologize for having to cut this conversation short but duty calls!" He flashed his shiny watch at him, and a part of Peter wondered if he used it to check the time or if he used it as a constant reminder of the number of zeroes in his bank account. "I look forward to seeing you at the gala, Mr. Parker! Perhaps we can continue our conversation then!" Yeah, he hopes not. Peter vaguely wondered if meeting Carl Price would have been less awkward than this. And you know, if his voice were just a little deeper, he would have sounded a lot like Carl Price. You know what, he should ask about that. 

"Oh, o-one more thing Mr. H-Hammer." He watched Hammer twist on his feel to face him again, and honestly, he looked a bit... scared? Why should he be scared of Peter, if anything it's the other way around. Peter ignored that thought and continued. "Do you know Mr. Carl Price? I-I met Ms. Darla already when she gave me a tour of this place, but, uhm, Mr. Price was the one who gave me the call saying I was accepted and s-so far I haven't seen him a-anywhere." Peter wondered if he had overstepped, asking the  _ CEO of the company  _ such a casual question that he probably could have asked someone else. But I guess in the end it wouldn't have mattered since Mr. Hammer didn't give him a straight answer anyway.

"O-Oh!," Did he just stutter? "Carl Price, you say? The one that works in the Hammer Industries Internship Foundation? Y-yeah, I know him. Unfortunately, he's on a three-month-long vacation to the, uh, Amazon jungle. Okay, I'm excited to see you at the gala, have a good day!" He watched Hammer walk out of sight, or rather run. Why did he sound so nervous about a simple question? Peter saw beads of sweat forming at his hairline, and heard his heart rate speed up. That's an odd reaction to talking about your employee. And really, a three-month-long trip to the Amazon? In September? Carl Price is a weird, weird man. But he would have been less awkward to talk to, Peter is sure of that. Watching Hammer run, Peter wondered how he didn't even spill a drop of his iced coffee. 

Wait, coffee?

Peter jolted out of his trance, repositioning the drinks and food on his arms and sprinting back to the elevators, passing a few employees with bewildered looks that muttered something like "Freaking supernatural death grip on that coffee" and "Is he a god?" which he pointedly ignored. Frantically, he pressed the buttons and paced back and forth the whole way up, ignoring the risks of potentially getting the elevator stuck. When he finally arrived on the 20th floor and took off toward the group of people who ordered stuff and practically threw their food and drinks at them, panting like he had run a marathon.

"What's up with you?" Lana asked, no emotion whatsoever in her voice, "You looked like you saw a ghost. Did you? And if you did can you introduce me? I have a lot of questions." He probably should have been concerned over the seriousness in her eyes, but right not he didn't have the mental capacity to question it.

"I... I just met Mr. Hammer." All the chatter happening between John, Marley, and Ronaldo came to an abrupt stop as they all stared at him with astonishment. Peter continued. "He knew my name and said he was looking forward to meeting me again at the gala next Friday, that way we could continue our conversation." Still, no one said anything. Until finally Ronaldo lifted his head and stared at him dead in the eyes with a solemn look on his face.

"This is why you don't get coffee alone." He breathed out.

"Never again." Peter said, "Never again... Well actually I have to, it's my job. But yes, I'm terrified." The rest of them thanked him for their orders and went back to work, Lana thanking him for his 'service' as well, which he really didn't want to know about. However, Lana halted once she was about five steps away, turning around to face him again.

"Oh, and about the gala. Darla assigned me as the one to help you figure it out since I've worked at one before and I'll be here next Friday." Oh, thank god, at least he knew someone that had at least a bit of an idea of what they were doing. She pulled out a slip of copy paper and handed it to him. At the very top, it read 'Gala Directions'. "I made this for you to use, but I might as well tell you, too." Ah, Lana made this, no wonder it's so straight forward and formal.

"All of us have to arrive on time, and they'll give us uniforms to use." I'm sorry, he needs a uniform for this? "We'll be walking around serving food or drinks, maybe even helping the bartender. It all depends on where we're assigned. It's really not that complicated. You'll be sticking with me since you're new here. So as long as you don't drop any food or make an arch nemesis out of any billionaires, you'll be okay." And with that, she disappeared. No really, she disappeared. He looked up from the copy paper and she was gone.

Holding the slip of paper with two hands, Peter only had one thought in his mind.  _ Please, for all that is good in the world, don't let him make enemies with a billionaire. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnddd that's chapter 7. I'm already working on chapter 8 so expect an update pretty soon! Peter and Hammer had to meet before the gala, since Peter would be working a shift that night, so I decided to do it in this chapter. And sorry if it was a little uneventful, I promise their conversation at the gala will be much more eventful! Also, I really want MJ and Lana to meet one day. Thanks to everyone who's still reading 7 chapters in! See you next time, bye! :D


	8. Damnit, Barry!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter helps out and has a crisis, Darla and Hammer get sneaky, and Tony gets way too serious about all this. Featuring: Creepy but loveable Davis and Lana, and some of the avengers for some reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 8! I was a little late with posting cause all of a sudden I went on vacation and didn't have time. But I'm back again and ready to explain the weird title. In the last chapter a comment mentioned that I put Sunday instead of Friday, and while fixing that typo I realized that the whole time line is messed up. So summarizing all the errors that I fixed, the gala takes place two weeks after Peter's first day. It's on a Friday, and chapter 8 takes place on Wednesday. So the gala is currently in two days. Anyway, thanks to everyone who read, commented, bookmarked or left a kudos on previous chapters!! 3819 READS!! The comments I've been getting recently have really helped me clear up any confusion in my story, so thanks for that! Anyway, enjoy!

Peter could handle a lot of things; He could handle Ned's lego rants, he could handle MJ's sense of humor, he could handle Flash, which he should be given a medal for, he could handle Aunt May's horrible cooking, and he could handle holding multiple Starbucks orders at once. So yeah, he can handle quite a lot. Unfortunately, this gala was the exception.

It's been three days since Lana gave him the sheet of directions, and not once has he gotten a moment of peace. During internship hours they told him to forget about coffee orders and focus on helping the warehousemen with transporting goods. Expensive wine, every type of vegetable imaginable, meats he didn't even know existed, and foods he wasn't rich enough to be near; everything could be found in one of these crates. And that was just the half of it.

All of their guests were important public figures, apparently, and he'd been given a list of thirty of them. All of which he had to do extensive research on; finding their favorite food, favorite color, favorite drink, and favorite animal. Peter just hoped H.I wasn't planning on serving their favorite animal as meat to them. At first, he was a little confused as to how he was supposed to get this information, but when your target-  _ he sounds like an assassin- _ has done multiple interviews that were then released to the public, it's surprisingly easy.

And he guessed it's beneficial. After all, if he didn't do this extensive google search he would have never known that Dr. Stephanie Hanover loves taking her Siberian Husky with her on all her vacations. Or that Joseph Bates drunkenly bought an M&M store so that it could only sell bags of red M&Ms since it was his favorite color. The only downside to all of this was that he couldn't do it during work, and now he was forced to spend his lunch and study hall in school learning about these randos. Or as MJ liked to call it, stalking. Which, you know what, she was probably right. And while he did correct her, saying that this was his job and he was supposed to do it, she just rolled her eyes and said 'Well now you're a paid stalker.'

But luckily, he'd finished his thirty people yesterday, and his agenda for his Wednesday internship was just to help around on the 48th floor- which he had just been given access to! So either that's cool or... his standards are really low. Peter shook his head, unfortunately knowing the answer, and picked up another table to move. A tingling sensation on the back of his neck had Peter twisting around on his heel, coming face to face with Davis, who had a look of awe on his face.

"How can you carry so many tables?" What? Peter looked down, realizing just how many tables he picked up while zoning out. Carrying two underneath his armpits and two in his hands. Ah, right, that isn't normal for someone without spider strength. "Are you a bodybuilder or something? Actually, no, you're way too lanky to do that. Weight lifter, maybe? You know I had a friend in high school who used to weight lift. Unfortunately, he spent a session without a spotter and dropped the bar on his neck. He was rushed to the hospital and his vocal cords haven't been the same since."

"Davis,  _ what- _ " Peter started, but Davis was already too deep into his story to stop. An occurrence that happened more often than expected.

"The ironic part was that he was captain of the football team and was going to use his scholarship to get a free ride to university and become a world-famous actor. Kinda funny when you think about it." No, no it wasn't. But Peter was just glad Davis was no longer on the subject of how much weight he can hold. He doesn't doubt that with enough time and rambling, Davis could figure out his secret. Hell, he could figure out the meaning of the universe. Peter slinked away while Davis was stuck in the middle of his story, which somehow changed to the topic of Hollywood working with the CIA. When the man waS finally out of sight, Peter breathed a breath of relief and placed down all four tables, but his peace didn't last long.

"Mr. Parker!" A voice exclaimed, and Peter lifted his head to see the person in question, Darla. "It's been a little over a week, I trust you're adjusting well?" Well, let's see. Davis keeps oversharing, Ronaldo's watching him like a hawk, he's pretty sure Lana's favorite pastime is using an Ouija board, Mr. Hammer casually put the fear of God into him, and he's technically a paid stalker. But besides that, he's doing great.

"Y-yeah," Damn stutter, why can't he talk like his snarky inner voice, "Everyone's really nice here and the workload hasn't been too bad." Lies. She, too, didn't look fully convinced but luckily she didn't press the matter any further. Instead, she decided to go on a different route.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that. But there was another reason I came over here." Of course. "I wanted to ask you why you applied to Hammer Industries." That's... a loaded question. Isn't that the type of thing you ask in a job interview? Was the first questionnaire just part one of an elaborate scheme to trip him up, and this was the real deal?! Okay, think Peter, what's something you can say that will have her tear up in inspiration but also isn't cliché? 'I'm broke' doesn't sound too professional and neither does 'I have no life out of Spider-Man and School.' Actually, on the subject of Spider-Man, it's been a few days since his last patrol, and he still hasn't come into contact with any other criminals that have a vendetta against  _ him,  _ whoever  _ he  _ is. Apparently, he took too long to answer her, because she started to explain further.

"We, along with many other companies, are trying to engage with today's youth, such as yourself. And to help bring in some more interns your age, we'd like to know what drew you here in the first place. It doesn't have to be profound or anything, we'd appreciate the honesty." Well, they asked for it. He braced himself, just in case she was lying and was actually going to fire him after this.

"Well," Oh so  _ now _ the stutter is gone. He sees how it is. "I'm a junior in high school, and my guidance counselor told me that universities aren't just looking at grades, they need to see what you're passionate about. So I figured applying to some STEM companies would give a boost to my resume, and as everyone knows, H.I is one of the best in that field. I was lucky to get accepted." Darla didn't look thrown off by his answer, just a bit skeptical. And she was about to tell him why.

"You applied to Hammer specifically because it was one of the best in the STEM field you were thinking of entering in university, that makes perfect sense. But, like you said, it's  _ one _ of the best. The actual best in New York City is Stark Industries, so why not apply to their September Foundation." Damnit, he was hoping to forget about his failed dreams. But he guesses he's gonna have to relive it again.

"I, uh, I actually did apply." Now she looked thrown off. "Didn't get it." They lapsed into awkward silence, with Peter sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. It wasn't like he was ashamed of not getting into S.I, he worked at Hammer and he loved it here. But you know, childhood dreams and everything, we can't help the things we wish for. Darla finally spoke up.

"You... didn't get accepted? Why?" She's asking him why he didn't get accepted? Does she really have to add salt to the wound?

"I guess I didn't meet Stark's standards." He said with a bittersweet smile, jeez here comes the waterworks. No! Keep it together, Peter. Work now, meltdown later.

"I see," Darla said, voice betraying nothing of her thoughts. Then, in the blink of an eye, Darla was back to her usual self, a wide grin plastered on her face and brown eyes twinkling. "I appreciate the honest answer, you wouldn't believe how many people brought up their dead pet fish that they had when they were seven. I'll see you this Friday at the ball, Mr. Parker, remember to get here at 6, instead of the usual time, that way you get half an hour to prepare. Bye now!" Darla practically ran away, for reasons Peter didn't know, nor care about. He's just glad he's still employed. Without another thought, he positioned the four tables and headed back for more, vaguely wondering what topic Davis' ramblings had morphed into.

Or at least, until he heard the word 'snakeskin boots', and started drafting ideas for his will.

>>>>> <<<<<

Darla giddily sprinted away from Peter, all thoughts of professionalism leaving her mind. The information she had just received... wow. Just wow. She honestly couldn't tell if this was a blessing or a curse, maybe it was a blurse. Peter, the child prodigy, had applied to Stark Industries and  _ hadn't got in.  _ And best of all, he thought it was because he wasn't good enough to get accepted. But she knew the truth, which was that nobody was hired. Why, you ask? Because Tony Stark is physically repulsed by any and every child he even  _ hears _ about, which she guessed included Peter.

Now don't get the wrong idea, she doesn't like the sound of Peter thinking he didn't live up to somebody's obnoxious standards, the kid's a ray of sunshine. But this was just too good. Sure, she doubted Hammer would be happy knowing his favorite intern applied to S.I first. But once he realizes that Hammer now had an asset that Stark didn't... she can hear the maniacal laughter already. She pulled out her phone and dialed his number, not a single ring had passed before her boss picked up.

"Hellllooo?" Justin drawled out "Darla? Are... are you calling from the 48th? You know I'm like three floors below you, right? You could have just come down here." He said, confusion lacing his voice. 

"Mr. Hammer, hi. And yes, I could have, but this was too urgent to wait for. It's about Peter," Darla paused before dropping the bomb "He applied to Stark Industries along with Hammer Industries."

"Kid did WHAT?!" Yeah, that's on her. She probably should have given a full explanation first instead of doing a dramatic pause.

"That's not the best part, though," She heard Hammer mutter something along 'as if the last part was good' and decided to ignore it. "He wasn't accepted." All movement on the other side of the phone ceased.

"...What?"

"He thinks he wasn't good enough to get in, as if his qualifications would have mattered either way. Stark probably took one look at the stack of applications and threw it away." She scoffed. "But that's not the point."

"Then what's the point, 'cause frankly I think you just called to ruin my mood and trash talk Stark. I mean I'm totally okay with trash-talking Stark, I encourage it and for that you're getting a raise, but I would have liked to never know that piece of information." She rolled her eyes.

"Tony didn't take the time to recognize Peter's talent, we did. He didn't hire Peter, we did. He didn't give Peter the opportunity to pimp up his resume and give him a chance at going to his dream school, we did. We did all the things Tony didn't." Her voice was quick and precise but on the verge of pure glee. "But it's not going to stay that way forever. Tony may have brushed passed Peter the first time, but that's because everything he needed to know about the kid was on a slip of paper he wasn't required to examine. If he were to actually talk to Peter one on one, I don't doubt he'd offer him a position. And as much as I hate to admit it, Tony isn't an idiot. One he meets Peter he'll see the gala for what it truly is, a golden chance on a silver platter." Hammer was silent for a few seconds before piping up.

"While the petty part of me, so like 85%, is disappointed to know that the first time Tony failed at something he has a chance to undo it, I don't exactly know what you want me to do about it. I also don't see why this is an actual concern." God damnit Hammer, does she really have to give you the whole run down? "It doesn't matter how smart Peter is, Tony despises kids." Okay, he has a point. "And if Peter was rejected the first time, what makes you think he's not also holding a grudge? Don't underestimate teenagers, Darla, they're cruel little demon spawns that dream on ruining your day."

"I admit I might not be taking Peter's personal feelings about this matter into account, but you're the one downplaying a teenager's priorities. Most of them are willing to put their emotions aside as long as that means they have a chance at completing their goals in the end. All Peter wants is college, and the only thing that looks better on a resume than H.I is Stark Industries." She told him, waiting for his response.

"I see... Can I ask you one thing though, Darla?" He took her silence as a yes. "Why are we going through all this trouble for an intern? Even going so far as to evaluate his career aspirations and pettiness levels."

"Well, he's useful. You hired Peter for the Hammer Industries Internship Foundation because he had potential, but at the end of the day, you have to acknowledge what the initial purpose of this program was. A PR plan to fix our company's reputation. And what do you think will happen once Peter starts working on actual projects here? The media will see that we're assisting in today's youth's educational growth; helping them plan out their futures and get experience in a friendly environment." Sure it was kind of manipulative, but it's not like Stark isn't doing the same. "One day we're gonna host an interview where we'll deliver a spiel about how 'kids are the future' and 'we want to build the brightest future we can," Darla said, voice rising a few pitches when she impersonated the interview speech. "So, does that answer your question?"

"...Yes. I guess it does." Hammer huffed out with a laugh. "So what's the plan."

"Well, I'll have to think about it before the gala this Friday but for now... don't let Tony within five feet of Peter."

>>>>> <<<<<

"And all I need to do is get within five feet of him! That's it"

Tony was met with multiple pairs of unimpressed eyes staring back at him, their silence stretching so long it was almost unbearable. Tony didn’t understand this reaction, he really didn’t! The plan was genius, after all. He just wished everyone else agreed. Letting out an aggravated sigh that had Pepper quirking up her eyebrow, Tony grabbed his pointer stick and faced the newly added corkboard that he placed on the wall of his living room. It’s only been a week and a half, but the board was already filled to the brim with red yarn, photos, documents, and tacks. It looked like something a frustrated detective would have in his bedroom while working on an unsolvable murder case. Tony placed his stick to the left hand corner of the board, right on top of a photo of him, Happy, and Pepper.

”First, Pep and I enter the room, with Happy trailing a few feet behind as to remain unseen. We talk to a few people, drink some wine, and keep up general appearances. And then once the crowd filters out a bit, it’s go time!” His audience let out a collective groan, knowing they were going to be here for quite a while. Tony paid them no mind, sliding his pointer across the yarn to another photo, which were the same people, but individual profiles.

"Happy moves in closer to make himself more noticeable, encouraging people to back off in case they don't get the hint. And Capsicle replaces Pep, for reasons I will soon explain. And where is Pepper during all this, you ask? She'll be busy tracking down the woman in charge, Darla. Distracting her by engaging in conversation and leading her away from the more crowded areas. That way she's unaware of her surroundings." Tony then whips his hand to the other side of the board, now focusing on a picture of Rhodey.

"Step three! Platypus also walks in with me, Happy, and Pepper, but breaks off to find the more scandalous guests of the bunch." Tony's pointer moved in a circling motion around three pictures of people they've never seen before, but were guessing the people they were supposed to memorize. "He'll tell his jokes, get people laughing, and draw a loud crowd. One that's lively and friendly but way too chaotic for any caterers to willingly go near. And just so you know, this must, and I mean  _ must _ be on the opposite side of wherever Pepper and Darla are." He turned back around to face them, a manic grin on his face, and jabbed his long stick at Bruce, who looked like he feared for his life. A reasonable assumption, really.

"And this is where Stevie comes in!"

"Can you please just choose one nickname and stick with it-"

"I'm not exactly sure how, but wherever he goes he seems to draw out the fanboys, as if they had a sixth sense for avengers or something. Although I do sort of get it, his so-called 'disguise' just makes him look more suspicious. Like c'mon, sunglasses and a baseball hat? Really? Anyway, usually it's very scary, but in this case, it's exactly what we need!" He twirled back around on his heel and faced the center photo, which was the one and only, Peter Parker. "Meet Mr. Parker. STEM school scholarship kid and Hammer Industries intern. But most importantly, resident avengers nerd. Had to do some digging for that info. He'll keep away from the huge crowds, and sniff out Captain America like a bloodhound. He'll go to Steve, Steve is with me, and therefore Parker is within five-foot range." Steve gave an almost unnoticeable wince, almost, and opened his mouth to say something, but Tony beat him to the punch. The billionaire waved his hands around like a mad man.

"Now I know what you're thinking,  _ what about other fans?  _ And that, my friends, is what brings me to Banner." The shy scientist froze like a deer in headlights, unprepared for all the eyes that were now focused on him. Luckily, though, Tony was quick to dive into his explanation.

"So, to make sure that no unwanted fans are drawn to Rogers like a moth to a flame, we'll have puny Banner here loitering about in the other corner of the room. Far enough away to keep any strays from moving to our area, but close enough so I can see you're flustered expression when people ask for your autograph." That got a scoff and rolled eyes from Steve.

"But in the end, we will have baited Parker to get within our range, and close enough to give him an internship offer that he can't refuse. How ya like them apples?!" He was, once again, met with silence. But at least this time one of them took enough pity on him to actually respond.

"Tony..." Colonel Rhodes began. "I know last week I told you to make a plan to poach Peter, but this.. is insane. You're like one of those serial killers, devising their attack on their latest target." Ohhh so that's why his last analogy felt off, he was on the other side of the hypothetical law.

"Well I'm sorry, Platypus," Tony groaned, laying the sarcasm on thick, "this is the first real project I've had in weeks so of course, I put all my time and effort in it."

"I'm not disagreeing with you, Rhodey, I totally agree that this is just like a serial killer," Steve said, "But really, Tony, It took you  _ over a week _ to come up with this plan? Yeah I guess it's smart but it's not some page long math equation-"

"Shut it, twinkle toes! And besides, you guys didn't let me finish the plan!" He exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, there's  _ more _ ?" Piped up a voice from the other side of the room. Tony turned to face the culprit.  _ Ah, Clint. _

"Yes, yes there is. And that brings me to you four." He gave a wide smile to Natasha, Clint, Sam, and Bucky. "But to be honest you guys don't play that big of a role. It'd be weird having only three avengers there so I might as well bring in the rest. I'd ask Thor but he's not exactly in orbit right now."

"Wow, thank you  _ so much _ , Tin can." Sam sassed, "I feel so loved and appreciated now that I know my presence is of little worth to you."

"Anytime, big bird, anytime. So, you guys got it down? All good to go? Or do you need a printed and lamented copy of directions, cause have a lot to spare." He waited for an answer and got none.

All nine-  _ he had nine people gathered here- _ of them stood up. A look on their faces that said, or rather aggressively whispered, 'I haven't processed what just when down and frankly, I don't want to, just let me out of here'. Except for Natasha, she was deadpan as always. And maybe it was because of that that made her the only one brave enough to respond to him as everybody else left. Finally.

"Stark," He leaned in, curious as to what wise knowledge she would impose on to him, "no. Just, no. Do... less. But we'll be there. See you Friday at 6." And with that she stalked out of the room, leaving a gobsmacked Tony behind her.

He spared one last look at his serial killer corkboard before sighing softly to himself.  _ Yeah, do less, Tony. _

>>>>> <<<<<

Peter looked around at the finished result. All in all, it was pretty damn fancy. The tables were covered in rich white cloths, the crystal chandeliers dazzled the room, their napkins were shaped like swans, there was a chocolate fountain with strawberries. Hell, even the floor was gorgeous; all polished and woody. Mr. Hammer wasn’t lying when he said this gala would be high class. Speaking of Mr. Hammer, there was another statue of him. He has to stop doing that. It’s weird. Although this time the statue was a dull grey in the far back next to the potted plants, instead of the huge, golden centerpiece statue in the lobby. Peter assumed that some employees finally put their foot down when it came to decorations, but weren’t able to completely defeat the CEO and banish the statue as a whole. Life is hard as an H.I worker.

But speaking of Mr. Hammer, Peter is still very concerned. He was looking forward to the gala- He saw the food! He saw it!- but he was not looking forward to his and Hammer's conversation. In all honesty, he wasn't sure if there was going to be a conversation at all, maybe it was just Hammer being polite. Agh, who was he kidding, when was Hammer ever known to be polite. Peter may have been all respectful and nice to him, but he didn't really have a choice. Hammer is the one who personally hired him and gave him this job, not to mention he's a billionaire, and Peter's one main goal at the end of the day is to not make enemies with a billionaire. Plus it's almost impossible for Peter to be rude to someone. He might say some creative insults about them in his head, but he has enough social anxiety to supply a small town, bad-mouthing someone is forbidden unless he wants nothing but guilt for the next three weeks. So Peter stayed quiet, but believe him when he says he wishes he didn't have to. He's not naive! Hammer is a man who attacked thousands of people and bribed his way out of the consequences, why should anyone ever respect him? 

So yeah, Hammer is incapable of being civil, which means that he might genuinely want to speak to Peter. And Peter, despite not wanting to, has to prepare himself for whatever topics of conversation may arise. Peter looked around for any witnesses that may be watching him and stalked over to the dark corner of the room. He wasn't doing anything illegal, he just preferred to not have a long and meaningful though process in the middle of the room with people passing by chatting next to him, it's distracting. So Peter retreated into the quiet abyss and began listing off possible topics. 

1 He could ask about Peter's school life. In which case he'd have to discuss decathlon, with all his friends, AP exams, that he's studying hard for, robotics, which he quit to make time for vigilantism, Flash, who he avoids as much as he can to escape his burning wrath- okay. Wow. That got dark real fast, let's try to avoid that subject.

2 He could ask about Peter's former job, which he'd been forced to put down. He really hoped no one asked about it though, it was probably one of the most embarrassing few weeks of his life. And yes, a few weeks, not even a full month. Because during his first-day orientation he got bitten by a radioactive spider, and then spent the rest of the time tracking down and defeating Green Goblin, who was his CEO. So yeah, he didn't have the best luck when it came to internships, and this story might ruin his current one. 

3 He could ask about Spider-Man. God, this is a stretch, how and why would he ever start a conversation about the vigilante.

Peter aggravatingly groaned in his little shadow area and came to a conclusion. Avoid Mr. Hammer all night, and don't even think about starting conversations. Better yet, avoid everyone, he doesn’t want to risk accidentally spilling a drink on a VIP guest. Just hang out with Lana. All she'll do is pretend- at least he thinks it's pretend- to be possessed by a ghost by rolling her eyes to the back of her head, but besides that, she'll stay relatively quiet. Quiet was all Peter needed right now, and hopefully for the rest of time. They let out a sigh. Wait, they?

"AHH!" Peter jumped a little away from his corner in surprise, drawing quite a few eyes to him, which he had to wave off with a wobbly smile and an awkward chuckle. But luckily it worked. He breathed out in relief before whipping back around to face the mysterious voice. Which, of course, belonged to Lana. He would have glared, but something about Lana just screams 'wrong me and I'll haunt you forever'. On second thought, she might actually get possessed. But that's not the point right now. "Lana? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the very same thing, Peter. I come here during breaks to mend my bond with the dark auras that surround me, so that I may be able to absorb their power to use for my own." On any other occasion, he might have tried to talk her down from her ghost activities, but right now he didn't have the mental capacity to do that. So he said what any other logical person would have said.

"What are you gonna use those powers for?" What?! He's curious, sue him.

"Destruction of the corrupt government, the fall of the American economy, and world domination." Well then. Peter stayed silent for a few beats before finally replying.

"If you ever come into contact with the Illuminati on your quest for world domination, please give me an update. I'd like an autograph." Lana nodded her head and smiled, before grabbing him by the shoulders and flipping him around so he face-planted into the wall.

"Ack! Lana what the hell?!" He whirled back around only to see... nothing. Oh, so that's how it works. He can't be looking at her for her to make her escape. At least she didn't ask any questions, though. Much like Davis, she could do anything if you gave her enough time.

He spent a few more minutes in the dark corner. He would try to ignore them all, but he already knows something will go wrong. Parker luck and all that jazz. He just hopes whatever goes wrong won’t end with him getting hit by another radioactive insect. Peter took a deep breath, and stepped out of the corner and back out into the light. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anddd that's the end. I realize after writing this just how serious Tony and Justin are taking this even though it's just an intern lmao. But I'll keep writing it the same way! The gala is next chapter and ohmygod I'm so excited to start writing it!! Special thanks to the constructive criticism I've been getting in the comments lately! They're a huge help and I'm super grateful! Anywho, till next time! Bye! :D


	9. So, You Got Detention.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and his decathlon friends are chaotic as usual, Lana gives him the worst news, Tony and the avengers put their plan in motion, Peter and Bruce activate their nerdy science powers, and Peter gets long awaited revenge. Featuring: MORE MJ, the actual gala, and PSAs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 9 IS FINALLY HERE AND YA KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS. THE LONG AWAITED GALAAAA. Anyway, this chapter was extra long, by about 3000 words, so brace yourselves. But I've wanted to write this gala for so long and now that it's here I'm just hoping it lives up to my weird expectations! Also, THANK YOU to everyone who read, commented, left a kudos, or bookmarked previous chapters! We started at 0 and now we're at 4382 reads, 217 kudos, 50 bookmarks, and 101 comments! U GUYS ARE THE BEST AND YOUR COMMENTS ARE AMAZING TO READ :D Just so all of you know, there's no way I could write this whole disaster of a gala in one chapter. So there's most likely going to be about 2-3 chapters for this.

Peter wasn't a stalker, and he never would be. It's a creepy thing to do and he'd rather grow four more limbs than become one. But that didn't stop him from thinking it would be easier to handle than his current job. Which he is currently stressing over in the middle of 7th-period chemistry class. Peter's bouncing his foot against the tiles and twirling his pen, occasionally sneaking a glance at the clock across the hallway just to see how much time was left before school ended and decathlon started. Usually, he'd wish the clock would move faster so he could get a move on and talk to Ned, but now he's hoping it would slow down. And of course, time only moves faster when he wants it to stop. Peter rolls his eyes and twirls his pen around one more time before letting fall against the metal desk with a clack, eyes widening as he's hit with a sense of deja vu. 

The last time he was this anxious in class was a few weeks ago, and that had been the day the teacher called him to stay behind and discuss his extracurricular activities options. Looking back, he should have just rejoined robotics. It would have been much less stressful and probably a better use of his time, considering the robotics club didn't make him stalk celebrities for a paycheck. A paycheck that he still hasn't gotten by the way- He's getting it this Sunday at the end of the month, and by god that seems so far away. Agh, he's gotten off track. Point is, anything would be better than the pressure he's being put under today. 

School ends at 3:30, and decathlon usually ends at 4:30. Notice how he said usually? Yeah, turns out 4:30 isn't the case today, as they'll be staying for another hour to catch up on their 80s movie trivia. So that makes the new time 5:30. Why is there even an 80s movie trivia section in decathlon?! Isn't this supposed to be educational? Not that he's struggling, one could say his entire life led up to this moment. But one could also say that his entire internship so far has led up to this gala, which he has to attend by 6:00. Usually, he takes his sweet time getting to H.I, sometimes even stopping at a deli for a bag of chips, but that’s just not an option for today. Getting there takes 45 minutes from school, he has to be there in 30. So unless flying cars are invented in the next two hours, he’s screwed.

Ringgggggg!

He takes it back, he’s already screwed. He ceased his fidgeting and faced the teacher, who placed down the textbook she’d been reading from. “And that concludes our lesson on balancing chemical equations. Do problems 1-19 on page 275 for Monday. Enjoy your weekend.” She said with a deadpan voice. Before he would have joked with Ned about how she’s only grumpy since she doesn’t get paid enough, but now he realizes it’s because she doesn’t get paid enough, her boss is a weirdo, her coworkers are summoning spirits, and she’s not allowed to leave and get coffee. ...Either that or he’s just projecting. Peter stood up to collect his things, shoving them haphazardly in his backpack- which May finally let him get- and shouldering it. He then sprinted out of the classroom and down the hallway into the decathlon meeting room, where chattering voices were rapidly getting louder.

“All I’m saying is that he should have bought the telescope instead! Girl's shirt be damned!" Abe yelled, banging his fists on the table. Well, that escalated. 

"The hell are you talking about?!" Cindy yelled back, emerging from under the desk. Why she was under there in the first place is something Peter will hopefully never find out. "Him spending the thousand dollars on her shirt was what started their whole relationship!"

"It was a waste of money! Who even buys a shirt for that much?! And if she knew it cost that much, why wear it to a messy gathering?!" Abe shot back, refusing to back down. Peter was actually quite interested in the debate when all of a sudden a snap came from the far left of the room. They all turned to see that it was MJ, standing at the stage podium with flashcards in her hand. But that wasn't the most noticeable part, no. It was the death glare she had on her face that could kill seven armies with a single glance. Everyone silenced their arguments immediately. She nodded, satisfied with the results, and cleared her throat.

"Now that we've finished discussing our opinions of 'Can't Buy Me Love', even though that was never a question," Arguments once again started up from Cindy and Abe but were quickly shot down with a look from MJ, "We can move on to the actual questions Everyone get in your places" Peter made his way to his spot at the edge of the table, right next to Ned, who leaned in to whisper. 

"So, that Gala thing's today, right?" Peter winced

"Yeah," he whispered back, "Although to be honest I'm not looking forward to it. I mean I got Davis and Lana to hang out with but everyone else..." He shivered. Ned's eyes grew wide and MJ took a card from the stack.

"This movie was released in 1989, and eventually got its own musical adaptation. A dark comedy starring Winona Ryder where an outcasted student devised a plan to-" ding! 

"Heathers," Peter answered, then he leaned down to whisper to Ned again. "Sometimes I feel like that entire company is a dark comedy. Heather Chandler is Hammer, cause everyone knows he's mean, Heather Duke is Darla, cause I know that deep down she's running everything, and Heather McNamara is... I don't know but the one thing I'm sure of is that my job there is just a depressing joke."

"If you're role there is a dark joke, does that make you JD? Trying to take down the system?" Sally Avril asked, since when did she join the conversation? And why was that so insightful? Is she just always listening, is that how she knows everything about everyone? Peter decided not to linger on the matter, he wanted to rant and he'll take anyone who'll listen.

"Nah, I'm not JD, I'm not dramatic enough for that. I'm Veronica, the person who goes along with all the craziness because they want the benefits that come with it, like my paycheck, but also hangs with JD because they support trying to destroy everything." Does that make sense? Probably not. But does he care? No.

"So...who's JD?" Ned asked. Well-

"Next." MJ's stern voice rang out. "This 1985 sci-fi adventure movie won three awards in 1986: Best Sound Editing, Favorite Movie, and Best Dramatic Representation." Flash rang the bell this time.

"Back to the Future." Then he turned to whisper to Peter. Why even bother whispering at this point? Everyone knows they're talking. Hell, Mr. Harrison knows, he's just too lazy to do anything about it. "If McFly managed to go back in time to get himself a better future, maybe you can too, Puny Parker! Maybe in a different timeline, you actually wear more than seven oversized outfits in your life." Peter gasped, clutching his Midtown High sweater in his hands.

"People actually noticed?!" Everyone in the group did a sheepish nod. Well, there goes his dignity. He fixed a glare at Flash. "At least their size allows me to keep them for a while. Unlike you, buying new tight polo shirts every day! And the polo shirts aren't even the problem, it's the colors you choose! Like seriously, bright pink?" Flash gasped this time. 

"It's salmon you uncultured swine!" Peter opened his mouth, another jab lying at the tip of his tongue and ready to spill out, but MJ was already reading the next question. 

And this is how it went for the remaining two hours. MJ would ask a question, one of them would state the movie, and they'd use that movie to wage a war with someone. They'd even gotten MJ herself involved at some point when The Breakfast Club came up. She argued that Andrew, the jock, only liked Allison, the misfit, when she had a makeover, while Betty argued that it was true love and the makeover helped her confidence. It got pretty heated and by the last few minutes, two teams were hiding under desks and throwing paper balls and pens at each other. The only thought that Peter had while he shot paper clips at Flash was  _ this, this is why Cindy was under the desk. _

But luckily they had managed to sort everything out when the two hours were up, the two teams forming a peace treaty until next week. Peter had said goodbye to Ned, grabbing his backpack and getting ready to sprint to the train like his life depended on it when all of a sudden there was a light tapping on his shoulder. He looked behind him to see MJ, the usual bored expression on her face except for the slight centimeter quirk in her eyebrow, showing that she was interested in whatever she had to say to him. 

“So,” she began, “I heard you tell Ned that you wanted to stay unnoticed during that whole party thing at your internship.” He’s pretty sure everyone heard that, they were all yelling at that point. “I’ve got a couple of pointers for you since you can’t go one day without drawing the whole room’s attention to you by dropping all your things.” He didn’t know whether to be flattered that MJ was actually helping him or embarrassed that his clumsiness was his trademark. Probably both. He nodded at her, cueing for her to continue. 

“Just do what I do. Stay quiet, keep a bored expression on your face that tells everyone you’re not in the mood to talk, keep yourself busy with any item you can find so people know you aren’t able to talk, and keep your head at a normal height. Holding your head too high lets people easily see your face above the rest of the crowd, and contrary to popular belief, keeping your head too low makes people think your purposely trying to go unknown and do sketchy stuff. Got it?” He really wished he had a notepad right now to jot this all down, but hopefully, his memory would make do.

“Y-yeah! I got it, I just hope I’ll remember it.” He let out a small laugh. “Just one thing though, now that I know all your wise secrets I’ll be bound to notice you more. Doesn’t that go against the MJ code of conduct?” Peter saw the ghost of a smile on her face, her eyes with a slight twinkle.

“Eh, sacrifices must be made for the greater good.” She shrugged, “Now go, swing to Hammer Industries and silently destroy capitalism while hiding in the shadows.” She patted his shoulder twice before walking out the school doors. Whether she liked it or not, she had an amazing flair for dramatic exits. It took Peter a while to notice he was smiling too, but when he did he only smiled wider.

Swing to Hammer Industries and silently destroy capitalism, huh? He likes the sound of that. Peter paused, his smile dropping and eyes going wide.  _ Swing? _ He snatched his bag off his shoulders and started sprinting out the doors to the school gate, ripping his suit out of his bag. This was genius! Either that or Peter wasn’t smart enough to even consider it. Why wait for the train when he can just Spider-Man his way there? As soon as he jumped over the gate and into the alley behind the school, he changed out of his school clothes and into his suit. He checked his web-shooters and got his backpack back on. But just before he shot the web he had a thought.

If he keeps doing his Spider-Man patrols wearing a backpack- or even worse, holding five textbooks on the days he doesn’t have a backpack- sooner or later people are going to realize his alter ego is a high school student. Lord knows what kind of backlash that’ll bring to him. He considers leaving his backpack here for a second and coming back for it after the gala, but the image of May’s done-with-life face quickly convinces him otherwise. He shoots the web and pulls himself up, setting his sights on the H.I tower far up ahead.

The last thing Peter hears before heading to work is “Go get 'em Spidey boy.” He shoots finger guns at MJ and swings off into the distance, leaving Midtown in the dust. 

>>>>> <<<<<

Peter slips through the window of the bathroom on the 48th floor, nimble as an alley cat. Luckily there’s no one and no cameras in this room, or else he’d be done for. Even in the stalls, one could easily hear him panting like a weirdo, or like his pre-spider-bite self during gym. It takes 45 minutes, he had 30, and he got here in 29. But that means he has one minute to change out of his clothes and book it to the staff room if he doesn’t want his pay-  _ WHICH HE STILL HASN’T GOTTEN _ \- to be docked. He rips off his suit, being fast but being wary not to destroy it. It wasn’t some state of the art material but it sure as hell had sentimental value. Besides, the little spider logo took him hours to make after begging May to teach him how to sew. He doesn’t really feel like repeating the process. As soon as the suit was off and his regular clothes were on, he burst out the bathroom doors and into the staff room that connected to the kitchen. 

Peter’s eyes met with Lana’s and he opened his mouth, hundreds of rushed apologies on the tip of his tongue. But he never got to say them, as Lana had just shoved a pile of clothes in his face. He sputtered and peeled off the layers of fabric, finally looking up to see Lana, except it wasn’t Lana. Not really, at least. The Lana he knows has a deadpan face and a bored voice and never shows a hint of emotion. This “Lana” had wide eyes, furrowed brows, and beads of sweat rolling down her cheeks as she gnawed on her bottom lip and fiddled with her fingers. Just-

“Who are you and what have you done with Lana?” Damn, he said that out loud. Agh, whatever, someone had to say it and it seemed like Ronaldo wasn’t going to. He, too, seemed a little put off by her behavior. But then again this is Ronaldo, he’s put off by everything. Lana stopped her gnawing.

“ Peter. Hi. There’s been a...change of plans of sorts.” Lana gestured around the room with a wave of her hands, and  _ wow _ that’s a lot of noise. Employees were bustling around. Some were holding wine glasses, others were holding trays of food, but the one thing everyone had in common was their uniform. They all had a white button-up shirt, dress shoes, and dress pants or skirts, depending on gender. Huh, so that’s what he’s supposed to wear. They also had a white napkin in their pocket, which he greatly appreciated. He already knew he was going to spill a drink at some point in time today, he’s just glad they’ve added precautions for the inevitable disaster. But that still didn’t answer his most burning question.

“Why is everyone so hectic, though. I get wanting to be prepared but we have like an hour." Lana looked away and Peter narrowed his eyes. "Lana? We have an hour,  _ right?"  _ She sighed, her shoulders drooping in defeat. Lana never admits defeat! She doesn't admit anything! What is going on?!

"As I said, there's been a change in plans. One of the bands we hired to perform today has another appointment later on and has to move up their time slot." She said quietly. "Move it up... by a lot. By 45 minutes to be exact." Suddenly Peter's world went silent, and the veins in his body froze up like ice.

"Are you telling me," Peter began carefully, afraid of the answer, "that the gala starts in fifteen minutes?" Lana opened her mouth to respond but paused and checked her phone, wincing at what she saw.

"Well... technically fourteen minutes as of a few seconds ago." Peter breathed in a short breath, taking a few minutes to process the news. And when he did... the chaos truly began.

Peter clutched the clothes and made a beeline for the bathroom. As soon as he got in he locked and shut it and began changing into his uniform. So he had fifteen minutes to get this weird uniform on, pick up his tray, and get into position. Oh my god, why is this only occurring to him now?! He's going to have to go up to people and offer them food, his social anxiety can't take this! It's not like he can just look them in the eye and ask them if they want anything, but shoving the plate in their face is bound to get him fired. Jeez, this is way too much stress for a fancy party. Finally, he was done changing and looked himself over in the mirror. Wow, for once his clothes weren't oversized, and he did not enjoy this. Oversized clothes were his daily therapy, a comfort of sorts, he doesn't even know why. But here he is, with clothes that are actually his size, and he feels ten times worse than he did before. He rushes out of the bathroom and over to Darla, who's assigning jobs.

Darla turned to him. "Ah, Peter!" She said cheerily with a crazed look in her eyes. Ah, so she's feeling the anxiety too. "I've heard from the Starbucks baristas that you're able to balance multiple items without ever dropping them." Lies. Complete and utter lies. "So you'll be handing out the tiramisu cakes." She handed him a tray filled with the treats. "All you have to do is circle the room near people and wait for them to ask you for the food. Come back when you run out and... just do that for the rest of the night." Well, that's surprisingly simple. If only he had an oversized sweater.

Everyone grabbed their trays and headed to their positions across the floor. He and Lana were by the chocolate fountain in the back, thank god, Ronaldo and John were by the statue, which has to suck, Marley was near the stage, and everyone else was just spread about. Peter stared at the huge elevator doors as slowly opened. In a few seconds, guests would be pouring out into the room. Bands would be performing, Darla would be discussing charities and programs, Hammer will introduce new products, and Peter will be forced to see the faces of the people he stalked online. All in all, pretty okay.

He put on his game face,  _ He's gonna tiramisu this place till the end of time. ...Wait that didn't make any sense- _

>>>>> <<<<<

"Sometimes, when you take a step back and look at your life from a different perspective, you learn a few things. The friends you've made, the person you fell in love with, the family you grew up with, all of these people helped shape your life. But at the end of the day you have to wonder, is the purpose of life to make meaningful relationships, or do the meaningful relationships make up your life-"

"Tony, what the hell?" Clint interrupted. "None of what you just said made any sense. You've been babbling for a while and we really just want to get out of the car. I heard they got cake in there, Tony, cake!" Tony rolled his eyes, but Sam continued where Clint left off.

"Yeah, Tin Can, can you just pause your monologue long enough for us to actually get into the party?" Okay no, this is where he drew the line.

"Well excuse me for trying to be inspirational!" He glared at them. "We're about to carry out my master plan-"

"Sooo many flaws, it's sad-" Clint laughed.

"And I'm trying to get us in the mood. So sure, get out of the car if you want but don't come crying to me when you-" They were already long gone. Are these really the people he chose to be friends with? To live with? Pepper, Bruce, and Natasha he gets, but his standards must be incredibly low for Steve, Sam, Bucky, and Clint to be here too. Sighing, Tony stepped out the limo and followed his ragtag group of friends inside the building and into the elevator. Everyone they passed by must have been pretty put off by their appearance, judging by how their jaws dropped and their eyes widened and they subconsciously tracked Steve's movements- Steve?! Not even he himself?! Are people forgetting he's one of the richest men in the world? Agh, no time to obsess over this. He pressed the button for the 48th floor and began speaking once the doors closed,

"Okay people, as soon as we get off at the gala the plan is in motion. I'm assuming you all memorized your responsibilities, timing, and formations? Don't be afraid to ask for flashcards, cause I've got them-" Pepper placed her hand on his shoulder and sighed. God his ego was destroyed by a single exhale.

"Yeah yeah, I'm perfectly aware of how detailed my plan is. And in all honesty, I'm not sure why I'm taking this so seriously. This seems like the kind of thing you'd see in a dramatic sitcom episode. This entire month has been a dramatic sitcom episode in general. So you know what, why not just roll with it?" Tony said.

"Yeah!" Clint and Sam exclaimed at the same time, pumping their fists in the air. Any speck of confidence the billionaire had was long gone.

"I take it all back knowing that Clint and Sam were the only ones to agree." He ignored their offended gasps and faced the doors as they slowly opened. "Just give it your all, and try your best to ignore Hammer. Also, when in doubt, cause as much chaos and confusion as possible. It's go time people!" 

The moment Tony stepped out of the elevator, everything in the room shifted. Tony, Pepper, and Happy walked straight ahead and the people in their path seemed to form a bubble around them, questions shooting out of their mouths like bullets. He also thought he heard a clattering sound from the back but hey, could have just been his imagination.

Tony and Pepper answered the guests to the best of their abilities, smiling and making a joke whenever a question got too personal or serious. Tony was a little annoyed by these people, to be honest. He can handle the media and people asking about his latest products, contracts, and business trips to foreign countries but when the subject came to his engagement, relationship with the rest of the avengers, and  _ Ross _ of all people, he’s entitled to be a little closed off. Finally, the interrogation calmed down a bit and Happy moved to stand right next to him, herding off the crowd with his intimidating glare and build. 

The rest of the avengers seemed to be doing okay, too. Rhodey tracked down the scandalous trio and got to tell his horrible colonel stories that, for reasons unknown to him, had them doubling over. And with the added addition of Clint in his area, there wasn’t a single moment when people weren’t laughing. Sam and Bucky paired off with each other to entertain the others, but their stories were mostly embarrassing tales of the rest of them. He saw a couple of wide-eyed stares directed Steve and Clint’s way but luckily none for him. At least they’re smart enough to know not to damage his public image, rules were different when it came to the genius billionaire CEO.

If he was being completely honest, he should have had Natasha join his own little crew instead of having her go off on her own. The air around her presence was deadly, and no one but a few brave souls dared to go up and speak to her. Most of them, however, were mothers who told her how much of an inspiration she was to their daughters. Natasha can deny it all she wants but he saw the edge of her mouth twitch in a smile, it was the most wholesome moment he’d ever get of her and the only thing missing was a camera to immortalize it. 

And that brings him to Bruce, Steve, and Pepper. When Happy had gone up to him, Capsicle and Pep switched places. His fiancé scanned the room for the person who looked the most professional and in charge and she ended up finding Darla herself. After a few words exchanged about finding a hair in her shrimp appetizer, Darla was sent running for the hills, or in this case, the kitchen. It was a dirty trick, but necessary for their mission. He just hoped whoever was in charge of the shrimp didn’t get fired because of them. 

Bruce was on his own, but Tony was kind enough to position him near the chocolate fountain in the back. He knew Bruce wasn’t comfortable with a lot of attention, especially when most of that attention was because of Hulk, and he’s not gonna be the monster that shoves him in that kind of situation. Hopefully, the people here are considerate enough to ask minimal questions about the green bean and walk away.

And finally, there was Steve. America’s golden boy. War hero. And the bane of his existence. But today they had to be civil with each other. So no insults, no less-than-friendly banter, and no nicknames. The last one he was still trying to negotiate about, but that’s beside the point. Their arguing might fend off certain people, and that was the exact opposite of what they wanted. Against better judgment, Steve turned to him to start some small talk. A horrible decision, really. But Steve was too polite for his own good.

"Hey, Tony?" Steve started, clearly preparing to ask a question, "I get that you want to hire this kid, but why do you need to wait to draw him out?" Uh... come again?

"Pardon?" Steve hesitated, probably concerned that they may start fighting again in a public place. Hah, as if Tony would be stupid enough to do that. He has a reputation to uphold. The star-spangled idiot shook off whatever he was thinking and continued.

"I mean, you got everyone here causing distractions and setting up the perfect scenario for you to give the kid a job offer. But don't you think it's a little too complicated?" Steve asked. Tony scoffed.

"Sure it's complex, but it's necessary. I asked you guys to create this environment because I have to draw Peter out and-"

"Do you, though?" Ugh, now he's confused again. Tony doesn't like how their current dynamic is going, usually, Steve is the confused one. No matter the topic- movies, songs, slang, just any kind of pop culture, really- Steve is always left fumbling. Now, the tables have turned, and it's not in Tony's favor. "You want to draw him out to talk to him about the internship. I know I'm not familiar with how people interact these days, as you've seen before, and this might sound cheesy or something... but why not just go to him yourself." Hah, is he kidding? What kind of idiotic idea is tha- oh. Wait- but- ah, hell. His plan was too intricate and serial killer-ish all along. This could have been so simple! Maybe deep down this was in Tony's favor, no matter how much he hated it.

"Steven America Rogers," he heard a small 'that's not my middle name' come from the blonde and he chose to ignore it, "you have no idea how much it physically pains me to say this but- and I mean it actually pains me, I'm about two seconds away from chronic chest pain- that was actually a decently smart idea." He clapped his hands together. That earned him a glare from his bodyguard. "Well, no time to waste. Happy, Steve, the exploration begins." Steve startled, choking on his Pina colada.  _ Virgin  _ Pina colada, might he add, this guy's too innocent to even drink.

"I- I'm sorry, what? You're actually listening to me?" Is Steve... smug? Oh  _ hell  _ no, he refuses to be bested by a guy who doesn't even have the correct amount of stars on his suit.

"Listening to you? Nonsense. I'm simply editing my genius plan to be more efficient after tuning in to some of your babbling. Now stop wasting time!" Before Steve could reply, he and Happy were already weaving their way to the crowd. Steve jogged to catch up to them.

They passed by a lot of employees, and he means  _ a lot. _ Either that or he passed by a lot of them multiple times and just didn't realize it. They passed a guy with crooked-cut blonde hair and an even more crooked nose, another man with blue hair in a braid, which he surprisingly pulled off, and another girl with a black bob cut who was harshly whispering 'Davis no!' They passed by all these people and yet, they never found the particular brown-haired, brown-eyed teen.

Until they did.

And no, he wasn't staring at Steve like the starstruck Avengers fanboy he's supposed to be. Heck, he wasn't even staring at Sam, Clint, Bucky, Natasha, or Rhodey. He was rapidly bouncing from his left foot to his right with a wide smile on his face as he conversed with Bruce, who seemed equally as excited about whatever the topic they were discussing was. Peter was gesturing with his hands as he talked, or at least, as much as he could gesture while holding a tray of tiramisu cake. Bruce, Brucie, Banner, Green Bean, Science Buddy- the traitor! How long have they been talking while Tony was stuck with Steve? Actually no, why were they even talking in the first place? Don't teens these days obsess over Captain America? Tony was confused again and just like a few minutes ago, he did not enjoy it.

Tony shook his head, he had to be in game mode now. Walking up to the pair with Steve and Happy trailing close behind, he placed his glass of champagne on the table next to them with a  _ clink  _ that quickly drew their eyes to him. Their conversation ceased and he plastered his paparazzi smile.

"Well hello, bouncy people, how ya doing?"

>>>>> <<<<<

Peter was not doing okay. And no, that wasn't some misleading intro that he will follow with an "I'm doing fabulous!" It was the cold, hard truth, and it was also a little vague. Because not only was he not doing okay, he was doing awful. It's like all those times Parker Luck gave him a little break was clumping together in one huge ball and speeding at him like a bullet train of petty revenge, cackling while it screamed: "PAY UP YOU WALKING DISASTER!" Because that's what he was right now, a walking disaster, And here's why.

It had only been five minutes.  _ Five minutes  _ and everything had taken a turn for the worst. He was going back to the kitchen to refill his cakes because wow, people have an unnatural love for tiramisu when all of a sudden  _ he  _ walked in. Peter's tray slipped from his hands and clattered loudly on the floor, but of course, no one noticed because they were too busy staring at Tony Stark. Yes, you read that right, Tony Stark. You know? His idol who crushed his dreams? Yeah, well that man is here, and Peter will be damned if he serves him a dessert of any kind. He has to leave, he has to run away as fast as he can and never look back. That man's confident aura is taking up half the room and Peter would very much like to stay out of range.

The spider kid picked up his tray and passed through the kitchen, collecting a new tray of cakes and heading back out, which is when he saw the others. Falcon, Hawkeye, Winter Soldier, Black Widow, War Machine, and Captain America. Not to mention  _ Pepper Potts.  _ He- he has to get an autograph. If not for himself and his CEO career aspirations, then for MJ. She's writing a report on the most influential women of the century and if she finds out that he could have got an autograph but chickened out, she'll definitely uppercut him into the sun. Spider powers be damned, MJ is a whole new level of deadly. Speaking of deadly, he should also try to get an autograph from Black Widow too. He doesn't doubt that she'll kill him if he annoys her in the slightest, but it's a risk he's willing to take for friendship. Although, he's not willing to take the risk of going near Captain America.

It's not because he thinks he's intimidating, Steve Rogers couldn't be intimidating if he tried. Not after all those interviews where he had no idea what movies the interviewer was referencing. No, Peter's not willing to take the risk of going near him because he doesn't trust himself not to uppercut  _ him  _ into the sun. Every single PE class, detention, and health class he's been forced to listen to the man's PSAs. And, unsurprisingly, it got old. It got old during the second week of school when he realized that  _ oh, they're going to play this video forever.  _ And if he has to listen to the soldier's voice one more time outside of school, even if the topic isn't puberty, the Captain America fitness challenge, or bad behavior, he's going to spontaneously combust and take this whole building down with him. Surprisingly, he's talking with Tony, but at least they're going to be easier to avoid if they're together.

Peter turned around in search of a piece of paper and pen he can use, it'd be real embarrassing if he didn't have one ready when he asked for autographs. Although he wouldn't be shocked if Ms. Potts carried around pens with her, she seemed like the type to always be prepared. It was when Peter was searching around the room that he saw it, or rather saw him. He couldn't believe his eyes, was his life actually a crappy 80's movie? Like seriously, universe, just tell him already. He's not going to be mad, he just needs a yes or no answer so he can pick the most cliché way to react to seeing his  _ other  _ childhood idol. Bruce Banner.

All thoughts of the pen were gone, he didn't need Dr. Banner's autograph, he just wanted to ask him a million questions and stand in his aura. That's not too much to ask of, right? Although he did wish he had the man's gamma radiation research book with him so he could leave with a signed copy. Parker luck be damned, his feet were already heading in the scientist's direction. Clearly, he wasn't the only one who had a lot to say to the man, as he had already gathered a crowd around him.

"Wait wait wait, lemme get this straight," A woman said to him, "You and Hulk refer to each other as different people? Not as one and the same?" Dr. Banner seemed pretty awkward about everything, but Peter can't really blame him for it. Nonetheless, he answered.

"Yeah, pretty much. Different opinions, different personality traits, and different thought processes." It's certainly interesting, but Peter's not that surprised. In all the interviews Dr. Banner has been in, he repeatedly states that he has no recollection of what goes on when Hulk takes over. He only remembers the before and after of the fights. This suggests Hulk and Banner have different memories and therefore are separate entities. It seems like the bald man next to him had the same idea.

"You don't remember the events of the fights that take place during battles, but Hulk does. So he would remember fighting alongside the rest of the avengers. Does he think of them as friends as you do? Or is his mind only limited to battle instincts and anger?" Well, that's some.. interesting phrasing. The man most likely didn't have rude intentions with the questions, but it was definitely affecting Banner, judging by the way he crossed his arms like a defense barrier between the two. Having people think of your other part like some mindless raging war weapon must be pretty hurtful at times. Hulk may not be friends with the Avengers, but there's no way he's not friends with Banner. They literally share the same body, they're about as close as you can get.

"Well I can't be sure if they share friendly feelings toward each other or not, but so far there haven't been any complaints coming from his side. I assume he enjoys their company enough for him to effectively work with them on missions." He answered. And that's how it went on for a little while. People asking questions about Hulk and Banner answering as quickly as he can while trying to mask his discomfort. And finally, it was Peter's turn to talk. He hadn't realized he was next in line, he didn't even know there was a line in the first place! Peter looked up at the scientist and saw a flash of... something pass through the older man's eyes, judging by how they widened when he saw the teen. It looked a lot like recognition but that wouldn't make sense. would it? They'd never met before. Shaking it off, Peter hesitantly asked his question.

"D- Dr. Banner, hi!" Peter thought he saw Banner perk up slightly at the use of the honorific, and he got the feeling people ignored that little detail a lot. "I read in your autobiography that you got accepted to both MIT and Caltech, but chose to attend the latter. MIT has more affordable tuition, a larger range of majors, and higher rankings in US News. So is there any specific reason you chose to attend Caltech instead?" The tension in Banner's shoulders suddenly dropped

"Freaking finally." Banner straightened up from his previously hunched over form. "Yes, MIT is a larger institution and has a greater array of studies to choose from, but despite Caltech's small size, it's a great university to attend if you already have a clear idea of what field you're going into." Peter let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, relieved that Banner decided to answer instead of awkwardly blinking at him like Mr. Harrison did whenever he asked a question.

"So you already had a clear idea of all the courses you wanted to get a degree in? Or did you only have an idea of your future career in gamma radiation research and chose your courses based on what you would need for that? Such as radio physics." Banner was looking at him more intensely now as he responded.

"The former. In the first three chapters of the autobiography I'm pretty sure I discussed the countless hours I spent in the library." Peter nodded. "I liked the idea of having multiple subjects to choose from instead of limiting myself to just one. Hence the PhD in biochemistry. My most important work was done in gamma radiation, but I had others as well."

"Chapter 25 discussed your research in anti-electron collisions, hence the PhD in nuclear physics." Peter was positively beaming now, his expression mirroring Dr. Banner's. And that's how it went for a little while, the duo shooting ideas back and forth about all of the scientist's research papers and any intriguing details that were mentioned in his book but not elaborated on and covered. Frankly, it was quite a helpful experience for Peter. When choosing universities to apply to, he only looked at the general analysis of it, never the little details that Dr. Banner talked about. He'd make sure to look into it. The crowd surrounding the Avenger dissipated as time passed, the people seemingly growing bored of whatever conversation the two were having. Peter wasn't sure how much time had passed when all of a sudden there was a clanking on the table next to them, catching their attention as their conversation stopped.

Peter looked at the glass, which was attached to an arm with a navy blue suit, which was attached to a man, which was attached to a- oh. Oh no. Peter finally looked at the man's face, taking in the goatee, sunglasses, and brown hair. He's seen this face before, he's seen it over a hundred times. On the covers of magazines, on the screen of his tv, on the backs of books, everywhere. And now he was seeing it in person. Tony Stark.

Oh, and Steve Rogers. Wait,  _ him? _

"Well hello, bouncy people," Ah, so that's why he felt a bit dizzy. "how ya doing?" Shoot, was he supposed to respond? The heck was he supposed to say in this situation? The man couldn't have recognized him, as far as Peter knew there was a committee that went over the applications, just like Carl Price had implied. If he did, that'd probably be the most embarrassing moment of his life. But he couldn't, so there's no use focusing on that. What he should be focusing on is the question that he sTILL HASN'T RESPONDED TO-

"Tony," Dr. Banner you're officially his new favorite person please sign his book- "Discussing my autobiography. I told you people read it!" The Caltech graduate was giddy, which didn't escape the billionaire's attention judging by the quirked eyebrow.

"Huh, is that so?" This feels strangely personal, maybe Peter should leave-

"Yes, we're comparing MIT and Caltech. You know, which one is better." Banner sounded smug. Why did he sound smug over the credentials of universities- wait. Where did Tony graduate from again? Peter's eyes widened as he looked back and forth between a mischievous Banner and a twitching Tony. Steve, the mediator as usual, but not according to the law, noticed the tension that was growing in his friends' shoulders and jumped in between. All while the other man beside Tony just snickered and sipped his drink.

"Both are very prestigious establishments, in my opinion. Back in my day-" No, he is  _ not _ doing this today. Luckily for him, the snickering man beside Tony only laughed louder at Steve's sentence starter, cueing the billionaire to quietly snort under his breath. Steve just looked so done with everyone in the area, and although that probably didn't include Peter, he wouldn't have cared either way. 'Cause frankly Peter is done with him, too. The pent up frustration of the PSA's is all rushing back and he really didn't want to be let loose. Steve turned to Peter and said, "Well, son," Perfect time for a Hamilton song reference, if he says so himself. "Mind if I have a cake?" Wait, what?

This was it. This was the moment his entire class- nay,  _ school,  _ had been waiting for. The moment when they could finally look Captain in the eye and make him atone for their bleeding ears, give him a taste of his own medicine. Logically, Peter knew this was a horrible idea, and could cost him his job. Or even worse, his chance at Ms. Potts', Black Widow's, and Dr. Banner's autographs. But Peter wasn't thinking logically right now. No, right now there was only one thing on his mind. Revenge.

"So," Peter looked the Captain straight in the eyes, unwavering. Said Captain seemed pretty put off by his change in demeanor. "You want a cake. You know the cake is on the tray right in front of you. Question is, how are you going to get it?" Steve's eyes widened to the size of saucers, his horror transparent to all four of them. Tony narrowed his eyes, probably confused as to what got the man so scared. "Maybe you were hungry and wanted a snack. Take it from a guy who never has enough lunch money, the only way to really quench your hunger is to-" He was cut off. How dare he! HE SHALL NOT BE SILENCED IN HIS GENERATION'S TIME OF NEED-

"Ahahaha, you young'uns-" Ew, who says young'uns? Tony seemed to be thinking the same thing judging by how his face pinched up. "-these days really have a unique sense of humor! Reminds me of my youth." Suddenly the star-spangled avenger leaned in with intense eyes, but Peter stayed put. He won't be intimidated by a man who doesn't even know who Danny Zuko is. "How do you know about the PSAs?" Somewhere to their left, another man choked. He had shoulder-length brown hair and a metal- He swears to god if that's Winter Soldier.

"I'm sorry," Yeah, this was Winter Soldier. He just wanted to talk to Dr. Banner, where has this conversation gone? "What's this about a PSA? And what kind of PSA would cause you to have that reactio-OH MY GOD. Did you...?" Bucky Barnes had a smirk that was slowly growing on his face as Steve rapidly shook his head. Really? He's trying to deny the public the truth? Peter narrowed his eyes, an action that didn't go unnoticed by the brown-haired man.

"Well, since Steve's in denial I guess I'll just ask the next best thing." He turned to Peter.  _ He turned to Peter _ . "Will you give me the pleasure of seeing these PSAs?" Steve opened his mouth to interject but Peter already had his phone out. He prepared for this day and he won't let the glorified American flag ruin it. Peter didn't know where all this faux confidence was coming from, but he was on a roll and he's not going to risk losing it. Flipping the phone around, he pressed play, and Captain's voice rang out for them to hear.

"So, you got detention. You screwed up. You know what you did was wrong. Question is, how are you going to make things right?"

Let's just say no one got out of that conversation without an aching stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of chapter 9! I hope Tony and Peter's meeting wasn't too underwhelming given how much I hyped it up, but just in case it was, don't worry!! The next chapter is when they REALLY interact with each other. This chapter was just to put them in the same area and situation, and the next chapter is the start of an actual relationship. Anyway, all your comments on the last chapter were so fun to read! Everyone who said that Peter would go to Bruce instead of Steve was totally right and we all know why. And speaking of Bruce, I had no idea what I was writing for their conversation, so there's a big chance it's all nonsense. And I'm also glad my OCs are enjoyable and my horrible attempt at comedy in this story was actually sort of decent! Anyway, sorry for the long note and see you guys next chapter! Which is gala part two! Byeeee :D


	10. I Can't Believe You've Done This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve suffers, Tony makes an offer, Peter gets a lot of unexpected news and autographs, and Hammer and Darla are pretty conniving. Featuring: Davis as an unexpected activist for global warming, Lana being her usual ghost loving self, a bunch of random rich people, and adorable avengers. Also, sYnTHetiC wEbBinG?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 10!! As I said, last chapter was set up so that Tony and Peter would be in the same area and situation, but this chapter they actually interact! I keep having to remind myself that the characters in canon aren't just never ending sass machines lmao. Also, THANK YOU to anyone who read, commented, bookmarked or left a kudos on previous chapters! I started this story in May and there's only 10 chapters but we have grown so much! Every single comment I get makes my day!! Also, I rly hope this chapter isn't too boring given how excited I was writing it lmao. It's the end of the gala! Anyway, enjoy!

Tony wasn't sure how long they'd been laughing. He and Barnes were the first to start, followed by Happy and Bruce. The whole time Cap had just stood there with a dark cloud over his head as he radiated defeat and despair, which Tony was perfectly supportive of. And best of all, the damn kid never gave a sign of weakness. He just gave Cap the most deadpan stare that promised no mercy through the entire playlist of PSAs. At some point in time, Sam and Clint had shown up to participate in the 'Let's Bully Steve' hours, and Sam pulled out his much larger phone that way everyone had a good quality view of the monstrosities. Thus letting the kid put away his phone, which was a pretty old model, by the way. Tony was surprised to see it working so well despite its age. 

Five videos in, Tony noticed a flutter of movement on his left. He turned to see Peter, slowing backing away from the loud crowd of avengers. Oh my god,  _ Peter. _ How did all of them just forget their mission? How did  _ Tony _ forget the mission? He's the one who made it! The kid is the whole reason they're there in the first place and they got distracted by Bruce's autobiography and Steve's horrible life choices captured on video! An amateur move, really, they should have been used to his poor decision making by now. Nonetheless, he wasn't going to let this slight slip up ruin the purpose of tonight! Tony maneuvered his way out of the group and drifted towards Peter, who was now silently trying to gather his tray of tiramisu. Haha, nice try.

"How much does a polar bear weigh?" Peter froze with his hands on the tray, eyes wide, but with furrowed eyebrows showing his confusion at the line, "Just enough to break the ice!" Peter winced. God damnit was it really that bad? It's not like he can just start with a 'hello', that's what a boring normal person would do! "Tony Stark, though I assume you already know that. Nice to meet you."

Let the poaching begin.

>>>>> <<<<<

"Tony Stark, though I assume you already know that. Nice to meet you." Yeah, genius, everybody knows that. They could take one look at your expensive sunglasses and know it was you, doesn't even have to be on your face. But whatever, that's not what's really bothering Peter. What's actually bothering him is the fact that Tony came up to talk to him at all. Why specifically him? There are about thirty other caterers scattered around the room and it just had to be Peter that he chose to annoy. He didn't recognize him, did he? Even if Tony was the one to personally review all the applications, he doesn't seem like the type to be good with faces.

"Mr. Stark, likewise. Peter Parker." Well, at least the stutter's gone. He doesn't know why, though. Sure, he will forever have a grudge against Tony for not accepting him, but it's not like that's his fault. His credentials just weren't good enough, and that's on him. So yeah, deep down Peter is still that Iron Man mega fan that just wants a signed copy of his autobiography, a VIP ticket to the next Stark expo, and maybe a mug from S.I. And like any other fan, he should be stuttering, so why isn't he? Tony gave that paparazzi smile.

"I know." Hah,  _ what?  _ How could he know that? Does that mean Tony freaking Stark saw his embarrassing yearbook photo? And why does he over analyze every single piece of dialogue?! His alarm must have shown on his face because the billionaire continued, but still not explaining. "So, you work for Hammer? You do know he tried to commit mass genocide, right?" Jeez, well if he's going to be that blunt...

"Yeah, I was there." And Tony saved him, but he guesses that's irrelevant at this point. "But the court set him free and so far he hasn't done it twice so..." Tony was the one who looked alarmed now. Or at least, as alarmed as Tony Stark could look. The toothy grin was still on his face but it became a little more strained as his eyebrows slightly furrowed. He probably wasn't expecting Peter to so casually brush of his near-death experience.

"You were there when the massacre happened and you still chose to apply?" He sounded like his usual snarky self except for a smidge of incredulousness mixed in. Is he seriously judging Peter's life choices right now? "Why?" Eh, might as well be honest.

"I needed an impressive extracurricular activity to put down on my college resume and Hammer Industries was exactly that." Still not as impressive as Stark Industries, but he'd rather die than admit that. Besides, Tony knew where he stood on that matter, either way, he saw the application. "Provides experience, coffee, and a paycheck. And that's all I'm really looking for." Behind Peter, Davis tripped over a potted plant and started screaming about global warming, which cued Lana to begin chanting about how global warming is a cover-up story to disguise the sun god's return to kill them all. Peter guessed he was also in it for his strange friends.

"So, in a purely hypothetical situation," That's some odd phrasing. "let's say there was a job with all of that, but better. More experience, more coffee- probably better quality coffee, too- and a bigger paycheck. Would you go for it?" Is... is he doing what Peter thinks he doing? Is he antagonizing him for not getting accepted?! The jerk! He takes it back, he doesn't want any of the man's merchandise! ...Except maybe the VIP ticket. The last time he got one he almost died, so he'd like a redo. Still, would he go for it? What kind of question is that? Of course, he would! Technically he already did, and you already know how that played out. But yeah, he definitely would.

"Eh." Okay, apparently his mouth didn't agree, because that's all that came out. Well, might as well go with the flow, it's not like there's anything stopping him. "Me going for it doesn't equate to me being taken in." God damnit, Peter! Going with the flow also doesn't equate to being a snarky teenager! And to think his only goal today was to not make enemies with a billionaire. Peter mentally backtracked and tried to lighten the mood, but he's pretty sure he failed. He smiled at the billionaire, but it didn't have the effect he was going for. His mouth stretched at the corners and his eyes grew pretty intense, and judging by the way Tony's shoulders grew tense, he assumed it looked more like a threatening smirk than a kind smile.  _ Agh, actually try to fix it this time, Peter.  _ "But yeah, I guess I would."

And just like that, the tension left Tony's shoulders and his smile lost all strain. Just by being in his aura, you could almost forget that he was intimidated by a high schooler for a hot second. He was back to his confident self, and Peter didn't know what that meant for him. Frankly, he was a little pissed off. It was clear to him now that Tony knew he was rejected, by himself no less, and this is how he reacted to it. By questioning Peter's employment, even though it was because of him that he's here, and shoving hypothetical money that he can never have in his face.

"Well," Tony reached two fingers into his suit's chest pocket, slowly pulling out a rectangular card which Peter could only see the blank back of. "Then I think you're going to enjoy th-" He never got to finish his sentence, much to Peter's curiosity's dismay. Because at that moment, Hammer chose to begin his presentation.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Everyone in the room looked to the man on stage, including Peter, Tony, and all the other avengers. But by no means did they have the same reaction. The avengers seemed pretty disappointed that they had to pause their PSA marathon, Steve looked relieved, Peter was glad he could end this painful conversation about this hypothetical perfect job, and Tony looked like he was about to burst a forehead vein from annoyance. The billionaire's eyes rolled so hard Peter feared he might get brain damage. Hammer's eyes, on the other hand, skimmed over everyone in the audience, making sure he had their full attention. Then finally when he had finished, he locked eyes with Tony and smirked. Ugh, is this gonna be another 2010 Stark expo? 'Cause Peter really doesn't have the patience for that, right now. Hammer continued.

"Welcome to the Hammer Industries Charity Gala!"

>>>>> <<<<<

He was there. He was  _ right there _ . He was so close to just handing Peter the damn card and offering the job when Hammer- of course, it was him- had to interrupt. Tony could already picture it. He would have offered Peter the business card, delivered a vague line about calling the number if he was interested- which he would be-, and then boom, he'd have the kid as his intern. ...Or would he? Sure, Peter said he would go for it, but not before giving one of the most passive-aggressive answers ever. And that smile- don't even get him started about how he felt the fear of God seep into him. So yeah, truthfully Tony didn't know if Peter would accept his offer or if spite really was the dominant emotion in all teenagers, but he could at least have some hope and provide an opportunity! But alas, he couldn't. And it's all because of that smirking little weasel on stage. And Rhodey dared to call this an olive branch? Pffft, yeah right.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Hammer Industries Charity Gala!" Tony finds it hard to believe that this guy would ever willingly donate to charity. It was probably that Darla lady who did it. "I trust you're enjoying your time here so far?" People clapped. "Glad to hear it! Oh, and to answer your unspoken question, Mr. Bates, yes. We do have red velvet cake." Laughs went around the room, are they serious? The suck-up wasn't even that funny! Hammer grasped the edges of the podium with his hands and plastered the fakest smile he'd ever seen on his face.

"Unfortunately, the red velvet cake isn't the subject of today's event." Oh shut up. "But hopefully what we have in store for you tonight will live up to the same standards. As you know, H.I has recently been involved in the creation of new programs, all dedicated to making sure that the latest generation has the motivation and funding they need to expand their education. And I'd like to call up the woman who helped make all of this possible, Darla Fledgerson." Well, at least he's got some modesty. Darla walked on stage with a grin, waving to the crowd and replacing Hammer's spot at the podium.

"Thank you, Mr. Hammer. And thank all of you, too, for coming here today in support of these causes. These days, brilliant students with tons of potential aren't given enough chances to grow and develop their ideas. Ideas that, with enough time, effort, resources, can revolutionize the world as we know it. Because of this, we have decided to create the Hammer STEM Support non-profit organization. Our responsibility is to raise enough money to give these STEM schools the materials they need: Top of the line lab equipment, interactive whiteboards and computers, textbooks, and so much more!" Cheers erupted from the crowd, waving their fists in the air and clapping. He had to admit, this was an admirable cause, but he still doesn't trust that Hammer was an active participant in this. Next to him, he saw Peter raise an eyebrow at the statement, but Darla wasn't done.

"And that's not all, folks!" Ew, who says folks? "We have one more program we'd like to discuss. The Hammer Industries Internship Foundation!" Ugh, don't remind him. If Hammer's smirking face in the corner of the stage is anything to go by, he knew exactly what he was doing. "Hundreds of students chose to apply, but we only choose the best of the best. The ones who show promise." Peter looked greatly uncomfortable being here despite the excessive compliments, or maybe  _ because _ of the excessive compliments. Yes! Wait, damn it, why is he cheering? Agh, he feels like a monster. "And that student is none other than Peter Parker. Can he get a round of applause?"  _ Oh, damnnn  _ was the only thing on Tony's mind as claps broke out around them. C'mon people, how many times are you gonna clap today? Can't you just wait till the very end of their presentation? It's starting to get repetitive.

A spotlight- where did they get a spotlight?- shone onto Peter, who was now standing frozen in place with wide eyes and a tense body. If he was being honest, he looked a little more tense than normal. Like yeah, the billionaire can guess that after having a light suddenly surround your entire body you'd be pretty freaked out, but Peter wasn't just freaked out. His eyes were fighting to stay open and his chest was moving rapidly up and down, it was like he had to physically restrain himself from curling into a ball. In any case, Tony knew Hammer was bringing attention to the kid just to bloat that he'd been the one to hire him, but this was just low, even for him.

Now Tony hates children, that didn't and never will change, but he couldn't help but feel an instinctive ache in his heart at the sight of Peter, who currently looked like a dear caught in headlights with all the guests staring at him. He didn't even understand why, it's not like he personally knew the kid. But who cares, this teenager was a possible employee, and therefore had a spec of worth in Tony's eyes. Against all better judgment, Tony decided to put aside his prejudice against teenagers just once for the high schooler's sake.

The billionaire picked up his glass of champagne again and took a step in front of Peter, blocking half of him from the view of the stage and anyone on it. He took a long sip of his drink, aware of the two pairs of eyes that were locked on him, and fixed a look at Darla and Hammer that said 'Keep talking and don't linger or I'll bring this building down.' And he might have imagined it, but he swore he heard a low impressed whistle come from a certain red-headed assassin in reaction to the glare. Darla narrowed her eyes almost imperceptibly, but it didn't escape the notice of the avengers, nor did it Peter. Fortunately, she was smart enough to continue her speech without drawing suspicion and get rid of the light. And if Peter was surprised at his sudden act of protectiveness- since when was he protective of anything besides Pepper and shawarma?- he didn't mention it.

"Peter is just one of the students the H.I.I.F is planning on giving a scholarship-" Peter choked on air, almost dropping the tray of cake. Actually, that's an interesting thought, how did he never drop those treats even once after all the shocks he's had. It's like it's stuck onto the kid's hands. But back to the choking on air.

"Did you just say scholarship?!" Nobody paid him any mind, except Tony and the avengers, of course. Which was actually pretty surprising given that he's the topic of this speech.

"-to for their amazing work here at Hammer Industries." The kid looked just about ready to faint, apparently he hadn't known this. Interesting. "But not just that,"

"There's more?!" Once again, nobody else was listening.

"The scholarship helps fund not only their university tuition but their own personal STEM project! In Peter's case, that means the medical-grade synthetic webbing!" People cheered,  _ again,  _ but Tony had the feeling they didn't even know what they were cheering for. Probably didn't even know what the word synthetic meant. Actually, now that he thinks about it, how did  _ Darla  _ know what the synthetic webbing was? That was Peter's answer to a question on the S.I application form, did Hammer really copy all of his questions, too? He wouldn't be surprised if that was the case, but it still seemed a little unlikely to replicate the entire form.

"Uhh, what? How did you- when did- huh?!" Wait, so Peter wasn't aware of this either?

"Truly an exciting opportunity for us all. Now, moving on to H.I's latest products..." But it didn't matter, neither Peter nor Tony were listening to the presentation anymore, too caught up in their own minds. This was an awful lot of information to spring on the kid in just one minute, especially since he hadn't known about this beforehand. No matter what Pepper or Rhodey said, he knew this was just Hammer's- and he guesses Darla's too- petty attempt at annoying him. And while Tony wouldn't normally be affected by this, since deep down everyone knows he's the superior one, it was the fact that Hammer's was annoying him through the use of Peter. It was textbook manipulation and that shook Tony to his very core.

The genius billionaire would have walked right on stage and blasted the smirk off that pesky squirrel's face if it wasn't for Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy being here to restrain him. Not to mention Peter's presence required him to be professional if he wanted the kid to fully hear out the job offer. Wait,  _ Peter.  _ God damnit, he did it again! He got distracted and now he's wasting whatever time he has left to give him his business card. Quickly collecting himself, Tony turned around to face-

Nothing. There was nothing and no one there behind him.

The heck? Tony scanned his eyes around the room, searching for the employee uniform and the curly brown hair that belonged to the kid in question. He wasn't by the bar,- why would he be? Think logically!- he wasn't by the obnoxiously ugly statue of Justin Hammer,- god, take that down already- he was nowhere! Tony groaned quietly and look toward the group of avengers, who had quietly resumed the PSA playlist and were now silently snickering under their breaths. Well, Parker wasn't with them, but maybe he was behind them-?

Oh. Oh, you've  _ got  _ to be kidding.

Behind the avengers, which he just noticed no longer included Bruce or Natasha, was Peter. Bouncing from foot to foot again in front of his fiance with a pen and paper in his hands and a wide but wobbly smile on his face. Well, he certainly moved on fast. Faster than him, at least. Tony didn't know what the boy was saying, but judging by the way Pepper's eyes twinkled with amusement he guessed it was pretty entertaining. Pepper took the pen and paper and quickly scribbled something down on it, proceeding to then hand it back. Peter gladly received it as he rapidly shot words from his mouth and then passed it on to Bruce and then Natasha, who also scribbled something down.

Wait, it couldn't be, could it? Was- was Peter actually asking them for their  _ autographs _ ? Is that why the pad was being handed between the four?! And why was Natasha of all people included, why did she even choose to indulge this?! He thought she would have intimidated everyone enough to convince them to stay at least six feet away at all times. But here Peter was, gushing over the notepad that she had just signed. And this time Tony was sure he wasn't hallucinating when he saw Natasha send a small fond smile Peter's way. Is the kid really that much of a fanboy to risk getting impaled by a knife if it meant getting the assassin's signature? And if so, Tony wonders why it didn't apply to Steve.

...Oh, wait, the PSAs. Tony could honestly say, with all his heart, that if he had to listen to those damn videos on repeat every day, Peter wouldn't be the only one getting impaled by knives. Still, even if Steve was a different story, why didn't the fanboy-ness apply to Tony either?! And no, before you ask, he was not jealous. That word didn't and never will exist in his vocabulary, no matter how many times Sam screamed it at him. Tony walked over to the group just as Peter bounced away, giddily conversing with an intense raven-haired man and a bored-looking blonde girl, who's only response to the seemingly endless chatter was a serious nod and more chanting about sun gods.

"Tony," Bruce started seriously, placing a hand on his shoulder. Tony made a 'hmm?' sound and tilted his head in confusion. "I don't care what planets you have to blow up to get this done, this kid is the only person who has ever actively come up to me to ask me questions about my book instead of Hulk. He's also the only person to ever get Natasha's autograph, which I previously assumed was impossible. So do whatever you need to, we don't care. Just  _ hire him. _ " Bruce, Pepper, and shocking Natasha, too, gazed at him with an intense stare. Tony huffed and showed them the business card that he still hasn't transferred over.

"Believe me, I'm trying."

>>>>> <<<<<

He got it, he got the signatures. He didn't know how he pulled it off, especially with all his nervous ramblings, but he managed to get their names down on three slips of paper and he'll be damned if he lets them go. Mr. Banner's paper will be a cherished family heirloom that he and Ned shall pass down to their own respective descendants to come since their children and grandchildren will all obviously be best friends with each other in the future. Ms. Potts' paper will be a gift to MJ for her report, and then hopefully a family heirloom that she'll also pass down. Black Widow's paper, on the other hand, is something Peter will keep for himself. I mean, he'll obviously let Ned see it, and there's a good chance MJ will borrow that for her report, too, which he'll let her, but after that, it's all his. He's going to keep it with him during his patrols and exams just to prove to himself that no matter how hard life gets, he was strong enough to ask her for an autograph and walk away with his body still intact. And also, in case you were wondering, the answer is yes. Yes, he is saying all of this and then some to Lana and David.

"And then the Winter Soldier asked to see them but Steve started shaking his head so I was like 'Try me, Ken Doll!' and I- okay, well, I didn't exactly say that but you get the point- and I whipped out my phone and started playing the videos. It was a dream come true knowing that Captain America was mildly inconvenienced at my hands." He babbled to his two friends. Davis was intently listening but every few seconds he would open his mouth to interject about a personal story of his. And once he was near the middle of his personal story, Lana would drive the conversation back to Peter by saying the ghosts were getting impatient. It was endearing in her own way.

"-and then now I have three autographs of all of my idols." Peter finished, smiling.

"All of them? What about Tony Stark?" Davis inquired, twitching wildly like he had to physically restrain himself from starting his own narrative. Should he have asked Tony for an autograph? Petty grudge aside, Tony was the most popular man in the U.S right now. His signature is probably worth more than Peter's will. Not that he would ever sell it, of course, but it's still crazy to think about. If he got it, he could give it to Ned and watch him explode from joy, or he could donate it to the school and watch the whole building explode from joy. However, asking would probably be the most awkward moment of his life.

"Eh, I don't think it's worth the risk of embarrassment," Peter said, rubbing his neck and holding the tray of cakes with one hand. Speaking of cakes, it was vanilla now, and Peter didn't know how to feel about that. Would it be weird to say that he grew an emotional connection to tiramisu? Probably.

"He wasn't worth the risk of embarrassment but Black Widow was worth the risk of murder?" Don't get sassy with him Davis! But yeah, she was. He didn't even need to say it, as Lana had already interjected for him.

"Of course, Davis. Murder shall grant him the sweet release of death, and allow him to float among the spirits of this building." Well, that wasn't exactly what he meant but sure. "...Also, what's synthetic webbing?" Synthetic webbing-? Oh, right, that. Peter still wasn't sure where they had gotten that information in the first place. Was it a question on the form and he just didn't realize it? Or had they overheard him talking about it while he was on the phone with Ned? Either way, he didn't think that gave them the right to yell it out on stage in front of all these people. Not that anyone here paid him any mind of course. Except for Tony and the Avengers, which he still didn't understand.

"It's just some science project I was working on. It was gonna be a strong, stretchy, and sticky substance that imitates that of a web, and it'll be used for stitched, compression wraps, bandages, all that jazz. I don't know how the idea fell into their hands, though. Or why they thought calling me out was a good idea." He had faith in Darla, no matter how small, and it did sorta hurt to be let down. And also, since when did his responsibilities include actual science projects? Not that he's complaining, but he was sure his whole position there was limited to fetching coffee, food, and materials for  _ other  _ people, not himself.

"Well, that's hardly important right now," Davis exclaimed, earning a wide-eyed look from Peter. "Who cares how they knew about it? Point is, they're  _ funding  _ it. They're gonna make your dream project a reality. It can be patented and distributed once you're done. And all because of H.I!" Well, it's also because of him, since it was his idea and everything, but yeah. "And once you're done with that, you get a freaking  _ scholarship  _ to any university. I don't know how much yet, but this is a multi-million dollar company we're talking about. It's bound to be a lot."

Holy crap, he's right. How could he forget about the scholarship?! He may have been very annoyed with Hammer and Darla, but to be fair he's annoyed with a lot of people today. If everyone is going to be an inconsiderate jerk, he might as well roll with it and take what he can. He came here for the sake of college, coffee, and Aunt May. This scholarship helps with college, which might be Caltech after his conversation with Dr. Banner, and that scholarship saves Aunt May money. He was given a college fund through the will of his late parents, but that didn't stop May and Ben from adding to it whenever they could. He tried telling them they didn't have to, but they never listened. Now they would have to! They could use that money for rent, clothes, utility bills, anything! So for now, Peter won't worry about how they found out, it was probably just his call with Ned, anyway.

"Yeah. You know what, you're right." Davis beamed at him and Peter mirrored the action with one of his own. Lana cleared her throat, drawing their attention.

"Just promise me one thing. Peter," Lana started, "Always follow the ghosts of light, never of darkness. For no matter how many times I communicate with the shadow spirits of the realm beyond us, it is only the ghosts of light that have good intentions for us to follow." Peter stared at her for a few seconds

"I didn't understand a lot of what you just said but it sounded inspiring so thank you," Peter said, confusion in his voice but a grateful smile still present on his face. With that, Peter bid them both goodbye and took his tray of vanilla cakes, making his way around the room again.

"Oh, I almost forgot, who's Ben?" But Peter was already long gone.

>>>>> <<<<<

The night continued smoothly after that, by Parker Luck's standards least. He handed out desserts with one tray in each hand. It must have been pretty freaky because quite a few times other employees approached him to ask him about his 'wise ways', to which he responded with memes, because why not? Employees weren't the only people who approached him, though, he recalls other people in suits and dresses asking him questions, too. Peter assumed they were some of the only people who realized the H.I.I.P was directly related to him, he kind of wished they didn't, though.

"Hey, you're that Parker child, right?" Peter nodded, already uncomfortable with this random lady in a purple dress talking to him. "They said you're getting a scholarship from their company to fund whatever university you go to. Must be one hell of a smart cookie to score something like that." Where was this going? "Just to help ease my curiosity, have you ever considered applying to Berkeley? 'Cause I happen to have a-" The lady was cut off mid-sentence.

"Hah, ignore Madeline here. She doesn't acknowledge the schools outside of the U.S, like Oxford-" Strange man, along with Madeline, was once again cut off.

"Yeah, and Jeff and Maddy both got a grudge against the ivy leagues. A pleasure to meet you, I'm Elaine Woodman. And I'm telling ya, kid, you can't go wrong with Yale." Jeff and Madeline barged back into the conversation, arguing back and forth with each other about which school was best. Peter didn't know what was going on, but he had a feeling that if Steve didn't interject earlier, this would have been Dr. Banner and Tony. Slowly backing away from the trio, Peter continued his rounds.

At some point in time, Hammer had gone back up on stage and announced that the gala was coming to an end. Peter guessed it turned 11:30 when he wasn't looking, time flies when all of your attention is focused on the food in front of you.

The guests started filtering out the door, being reminded to take their complimentary personalized gift bags with them. Peter didn't know how he'd react if they forgot, given how much time was spent getting all that info on them. Mr. Bates better enjoy his god damn M&Ms. Soon there was no one but Hammer, Darla, Peter, and the other employees left in the room. Oh, except the Avengers and friends, of course. Peter watched them his spot on the wall as he wiped down a table, far right of the elevator.

"It was for PR, they said I had to keep up my reputation somehow and this was the least embarrassing option," Steve grumbled, ears beet red as Sam and Bucky gripped his shoulders to keep themselves up so they don't fall to the ground laughing. Ah, yes, the playlist. "It's really not that funny."

"Ohhh but it is!" Bucky exclaimed, finally catching his breath enough to speak. Sam straightened up to with a deep breath.

"I swear, the next time I find that kid I'm putting him in my will. Doing god's work, I tell you." Peter lightly flushed with embarrassment, but he chuckled nonetheless. At least someone agreed with him. Apparently, he wasn't being as quiet as he thought, 'cause the next thing he knew there was a tingling sensation on the back of his neck, signaling someone's approaching presence. Peter quickly lifted his head, coming face to face with not one, but two people. Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. Peter froze, he wanted to fanboy and die at the same time. Truly an odd combination.

"Peter, hello again." Bruce started. Last time he was stuck like this there was always someone else to start talking, but now there's no one. Ugh, he's gonna have to socialize, isn't he? "So, how about that scholarship and project, huh? Your parents must be pretty proud, right?" Of course, it just had to be an awkward line like that. He can't just say they're dead, it'd make Dr. Banner feel like a jerk and he didn't want that.

"Yeah, my aunt's gonna be ecstatic," Peter said and watched as Bruce's smile fell a bit as his eyes widened in horrific realization. But it came back in full force just as fast as it had left, most likely trying not to show his surprise and regret. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, Tony spoke so Bruce wouldn't have to. Although what he said wasn't any better.

"Gonna be? So she doesn't know yet?" The billionaire said May doesn't know a lot of things about Peter's life, this was no exception.

"Yeah, but to be fair I didn't know either," Peter swore he saw Tony narrow his eyes behind those sunglasses, but maybe it was just his imagination. "Must have missed something in the email."

"All's well in the end, I suppose. Especially since you get to make that synthetic webbing of yours with the second-best resources in New York." Peter suppressed a scoff at the emphasis on second. "It'll be a big help in the medical field, with all its uses. Bandages, stitches, you know. And since you're perfecting the formula, it won't be too long before it's ready for release, right?" Peter tensed. Yeah, Hammer mentioned the name of his product, but he never announced the details of its purposes. The only way Tony could have known about it was if he went through his application. Peter mentally cursed, he knew it. Like, of course, he knew, but after this, he  _ knew  _ knew. Tony knew everything, and Peter didn't enjoy that one bit.

"Sure." He replied. Begone you conniving goatee demon.

"It won't be too long before it's complete, but why not take the chance to speed up the process?" Huh? Peter raised an eyebrow as Dr. Banner rolled his eyes. Suddenly, Tony repeated the same action he did earlier before Hammer and Darla's speech, pulling out a card from his chest pocket with two fingers. He swears, if there's some uninspired jab at him on that paper, he's going to shoot a web at his face. Secret identity be damned. Except it wasn't an uninspired jab, it wasn't a jab at all. Except maybe to Peter's sense of logic. Tony handed him the slick card and Peter took it in confusion, flipping it over to see the front, which was dark grey with gold writing. He read the text.

_ STARK INDUSTRIES _

_ (X)-XXX-XXX-XXX _

_ (STATE NAME AND ASK ABOUT SEPTEMBER FOUNDATION) _

...what? Peter's eyes widened but he didn't tense up. It wasn't like he was freaked out or anything, the only thing his brain could process what... nothing. It just didn't understand anything that was going on. Peter forgot all about his grudge, his petty revenge, his spite, and his fanboying; all that's left is confusion.

"Uhhhh..?" Peter searched both of the men's eyes for an explanation, but they gave away nothing. Bruce had a tired smile on his face and Tony had a smirk, but both had this strange fondness in their eyes that the spider vigilante couldn't dissect.

"It's what I was trying to give you before Justin Screwdriver interrupted with his horribly cheesy speech." That's something Peter could agree on. "I'm guessing you already know what the September Foundation is. So take it as it is, an internship offer." That's something Peter  _ couldn't  _ agree on. He's done going along with Tony's snarky-but-not-snarky dialogue.

"An offer for an internship I already applied to?" Peter noticed Bruce freeze and narrowed his eyes, but kept his voice even. "But you already knew that, didn't you." It wasn't a question anymore, it was just a statement. "This is awfully confusing. Why make an offer almost a month after a rejection email?" Might as well be honest.

"Eh, logical ruse." He supplied, shrugging, seemingly unaffected.

"Saying 'logical ruse' doesn't explain anything."

"Not everything has to be explained." Stop trying to act profound.

"Right, because handing me a fancy business card is perfectly satisfactory." He bit back sarcastically. Since when did he bite back at people?! Usually, he's a stuttering disaster in any interaction. Or maybe, he isn't asking the right questions. Peter doesn't make sarcastic comments to get on a person's nerves, but Spider-Man does. Lately, his alter ego is starting to show up at times when it shouldn't. Peter's got to learn to keep track of his personalities when interacting with people, or else he'll end up in deep trouble. At this point Bruce had a look of astonishment on his face as his eyes looked between Peter and Tony, hearing them go back and forth shooting verbal jabs at each other. It must have been a pretty odd sight to earn that reaction.

"You think the card looked fancy? Great. There are a lot more fancy items where that came from. Fancy computers, fancy microscopes, fancy chairs, all that jazz. And I can guarantee you that all that fancy equipment is worth the money. You use S.I's resources for your synthetic webs, and it'll be the best version it can possibly be." Wow.

"Tempting, but consider this, no." Tony raised an eyebrow. "You expect me to quit the job that actually  _ did  _ hire me the first time and switch sides to their rival? And for what, a golden magnifying glass?" Damnit Parker, if you don't walk out with a job offer you'll be walking out with a bounty on your head. What part of 'don't make enemies with a billionaire' do you not understand? "I'm not at H.I for the aesthetic." Tony scoffed and nodded his head toward the grey statue of Justin Hammer.

"Clearly." Peter had the decency to at least nod in agreement. "But you're right, you're not here for the aesthetic. If I remember correctly, you're in it for the experience, coffee, and paychecks. And if you remember what I said, in the hypothetical situation that you should know by now wasn't actually hypothetical, my company can give you all of that and more. So don't switch sides for the fancy materials, switch sides to help your resume. Because between Hammer and I's companies, we all know which one looks better on paper." Tony paused for a second, then laughed. "And in real life." Peter rolled his eyes but stayed silent. The man had a point, and by no means was he going to brush off everything the billionaire had told him. Tony analyzed Peter's face and the way he bit his inner cheek in contemplation. 

"There's no use in stressing about it right now. Take the weekend and call the number for more details, I have a feeling you'll need it to make your decision." Yeah, he will. "Well, see ya when I see ya. Which by the way is going to be next week. Toodles." Tony smiled his signature paparazzi smile and gave a couple of pats to Peter's shoulder, making his way into the elevator. Bruce moved to follow but held back for a few seconds.

"Just so you know, I think Caltech is the superior university. But I look forward to continuing the debate." He gave Peter one last kind smile and joined Tony. 

Peter watched the elevator doors close before examining the grey and gold card, which he was fiddling between his fingers. What Tony had just offered him was a chance to live out his dreams. He could work at the leading STEM company in America, be in the same area as his childhood hero, and breathe the same air as Dr. Banner. It all seemed too good to be true, and maybe deep down Peter knew that. But then again, that was  _ very, very  _ deep down. Earlier he said he would go with the flow, and this a golden opportunity that the ocean shore washed up for him. So yeah, he wasn't a hundred percent sure, but this job wasn't off Peter's table. 

There was one thing he was sure of, though, as he changed out of his uniform, said his goodbyes to his friends, and began his walk toward the train station. And it's that despite how frustrating and confusing this whole day has been, he just wants to eat takeout from that Thai restaurant with Aunt May. Because what can he say?

He larbs it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE GALA HAS OFFICIALLY COME TO AN END! But Tony and Peter's relationship hasn't, it has just begun! Also, just in case anyone was worried, this isn't the end of Peter's time at H.I. Like he's obviously going to work at Stark Industries but it's essential for the plot for him to keep working at Hammer, too. Idk if anyone noticed, but I changed the relationship tags to include Happy/May. Like I loved them in Far From Home and I'm legit praying that they're together in the third and final movie, it would be so cute. On another note, all your comments are so kind AND I LOVE ALL OF THEM! But I really have to find a synonym for "glad" cuz it's incredible how limited my vocab is. And because of your amazing comments I rly hope this chapter was good enough! I'm gonna start planning the next one! BAIIIII I LARB YOU GUYS!! :D


	11. I Think He Larbs You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and May have a talk, but don't worry it's not depressing or anything, she gives Peter an idea, and Tony also has a conversation with the rest of his annoyed crew. Featuring: Thai food that I hope I spelt right, a waitress that matches Peter's anxiety levels, and complimentary peanuts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 11! It took a bit longer than usual cause my wifi went berserk, but it's here now and chapter updates shall resume as usual. You'll notice that nothing particularly special happens in this chapter, it's mostly just to give information for the next chapter and set up subplots (*cough* Happy and May *cough*). THANKSSSSS to everyone who read, left a kudos, commented, or bookmarked on previous chapters! In just two chapters we gained over a thousand reads! We are now at 5660 reads, 264 kudos, and 64 bookmarks! How did this fanfic get so big?! You guys rock and I appreciate all your comments! Anyway, enjoy! (P.S this chapter feels shorter than usual and idk why)

Peter fiddled with the card between his fingers. It really was a fancy card. It was the kind of card you paid extra for on Vistaprint with the glossy texture and popping out words. And given the reputation Tony and his company have, Peter wouldn't be surprised if it was real gold. If it was real gold, Peter would sell it and just pay his tuition with that. He'd forget about Hammer and Stark and just get experience from Delmar's if he's still hiring. Peter thinks he'll make a special exception for him, though, since he's the only one Murph won't scratch with his little cat paws. But alas, it’s not real gold. He just wished it was. He looked up from his fidgeting at the sound of Aunt May’s voice.

“So, lemme get this straight. You applied to both Hammer and Stark Industries, but only got accepted to Hammer.” Aunt May said, waving her fork around in the air as if trying to organize her thoughts. “And then tonight during the Hammer gala, which you were recruited to as a caterer for some reason, Tony Stark personally came up to you and offered you the job.” Peter nodded, clarifying everything she said as the truth. “And where was I during all of this?”

“Baking walnut date loaf and watching sappy romance movies.” He replied, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his lips. May flung a piece of her som tum at his nose, and peter wiped it off, giggling. 

“Hot damn,” May breathed out as if she still couldn’t believe this was Peter’s life now. He couldn’t blame her, he didn’t either. “Well, are you gonna accept?” Peter’s smile dropped and was replaced by a thoughtful expression. 

“I...don't really know yet. On one hand, leaving H.I and my friends behind just to work for the company that rejected me seems absurd. But on the other hand, it’s a second chance to have everything I ever wanted.” He paused. “Or at least, everything I used to want. See this is what I mean, I’m on the fence about everything right now.” May gave him a sad smile.

“Then don’t think about it right now. Just eat your food and enjoy the fact that you were skilled enough to get  _ Tony Stark  _ to come running back. Served him right.” Peter snorted an ugly snort.

“Serves him right?” Peter raised an eyebrow. She sighed.

“I have to tell you... not a fan of that Tony Stark. He always struck me as the selfish type, can’t even take the time the time of day to go a simple awards ceremony ‘cause he was too busy partying up somewhere.” She said shaking her head. Peter felt the strange urge to defend the man, despite somewhat agreeing.

“Well, y-yeah,” Yes! Peter the stuttering fool is back! “But he isn’t like that anymore, ri- right? Ever since he b-became Iron Man, he dropped all of the drinking and the partying.”

“That’s true, yes. But he still hasn’t shown himself to be responsible when it comes to his own company. I mean look at you now! He made a mistake with the applications and you’re the one who has to deal with the backlash. He’s distracting you, got you in your head.” She stopped in the middle of her rant to see the look on his face. And it must not have been a pretty sight judging by the way she immediately backtracked.

“But listen, Peter, my personal opinion of the man shouldn’t affect your decision in any way. I know Stark is the man that you’ve idolized for almost your entire life, and I can’t imagine what’d it be like to have this kind of decision presented to you. Just listen to your instincts, okay? I’m sure it’ll all work out in the end.” She assured him softly.

“Wh-what if my instincts are just as confused as me?” He asked, frowning. Honestly, his spider-sense does not give him common sense. If it did, he wouldn’t have to study so many hours to get a good grade on his Mandarin test.

“Then don’t rely on your instincts. It was always just a useless expression, anyway.” He aimed a half-hearted glare at her and she laughed. “I guess you should do what you do best, science. Correct me if I’m wrong, but it’s all about testing theories, right?” He hesitantly nodded, not knowing where she was going with this. May tapped her finger against her chin, deep in thought. “So... test some theories. Imagine what’d you’d feel like working at Stark Industries, and what it’d feel like not to. Then once you’ve gathered all your ‘data’ of sorts, come to your final conclusion of what would work best in you and your project’s favor. Easy as pudding.” Aunt May finished her speech by eating a spoonful of the free rice pudding she was given earlier, and Peter decided to ignore the cheesy play on a common expression. He repeated her words over and over again in his head. Test a theory? He could do that. He’s done it a million times before, after all.

Let’s say he didn’t accept. He’d continue the rest of the school year as a Hammer Intern, suffering as he is forced to be in the same building as the psycho CEO and his deceptive right-hand woman, Darla. But he’d also be in the same building as Lana and Davis. He’d be able to work on his synthetic webbing and receive a scholarship in the process. And who knows, his career may start the second his product is patented. But what if he did accept? He wouldn’t have any friends and it’d be just as horrible working in the same building as Tony Stark. Except in this case it wasn’t because the CEO of S.I was a drone loving maniac, it was because Peter can’t stand tense and awkward silences. But on the bright side, he’d still be working on the synthetic webbing. And with the advanced technology of Mr. Stark’s labs, he’d get it done twice as fast. And- wait, was S.I also going to give him a scholarship? God damnit!

“Ugh,” Peter groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “T-this is getting me nowhere. For e-every con at one place there’s a pro at the other. It’s like they’re perfectly matched, which shouldn’t ever be the case!” May scrunched her face.

“So just... go to both.” He froze and cracked open an eye to give her an incredulous stare.

“Um... Come again?”

“I mean, you don’t exactly have to quit Hammer to go to Stark, right? If they’re on different days or during different hours, you could do each internship simultaneously.” Peter slowly straightened as he listened to her. “Think about it! You could work on your project at both companies, possibly get two scholarships, and you would be able to put two companies down on your application. It's a win for everyone." Well, a win for everyone except Hammer and Stark, but sure. And she's right, either way. Working at both companies will allow him to compare their working environments  _ actually  _ give him some experience. Plus, instead of getting his webbing done twice as fast at S.I, he could finish it even faster. Although, Peter wasn't exactly sure how the scholarship(s?) would work since H.I hasn't really told him anything. All they did was yell the word 'scholarship' at his face, shine a spotlight at him, and expect him to know what the hell is going on, which he didn't. He also didn't understand what those three rich people were going on about with Berekely, Oxford, and Yale, but that's not the point.

"Y-yeah! And I'd get even more money!" He exclaimed excitedly, although as soon as he said that, the smile slowly faded from Aunt May's face. He gave her a confused look, prompting her to explain her expression.

"It's not that I'm not proud of all the work you've done to earn this money, Peter, but if you don't mind me asking: Why do you need so much of it? Video games, movie tickets, science books; none of them are anywhere near the amount you'll be earning." Peter looked down. "So if it's not that, what is it? And before you ask, no. I'm not suspecting you of buying drugs." Peter started snorting again and he saw May smile, proud of herself for lightening up the mood. He decided to grace her with an answer, it's the least she deserved.

"You're not half wrong about it being for myself. Textbooks, school supplies, backpacks, all that jazz." She rolled her eyes at the part about the backpacks, knowing full well how many he's used up this past year. His smile dropped as he considered what he was going to say next and in turn, hers did too. "Clothes, transportation, food, maybe a portion of the rent too-" Aunt May cut him off with furrowed eyebrows and a wave of her hand. Shoot, was she mad? She couldn't be mad though, right? He was just trying to help her out.

"Peter, slow down for a sec. You know you don't have to worry about those things, right?" He wanted to argue but she must have predicted what he was about to do and continued. "It's okay for you to spend it on school supplies but I can take care of all the necessities. Don't be afraid to spend it on something fun with your friends or a new hobby!" She tried to reassure him but it only made him feel worse.

He didn't want May to think that she couldn't provide for them, but the hard truth was that she couldn't help him live his life while also living hers. Sure, he can spend all his internship money buying Dr. Banner's latest books, lego death stars, and better clothes and masks to use as Spider-Man. But how- wait, that was a good idea. He should invest some of his money into a new vigilante costume, his current clothing material was starting to get a bit worn out with all the rips and stains. And there's only so much his sewing kit and a local laundromat could fix. But he's getting off track and that's beside the point! He could use the money to treat himself but at what cost? May working double her shifts and being trapped in a hospital all day? The only thing she does when she's not working is sleeping at home and eating dinner with Peter. So he decided to voice his thoughts.

"Sure I have interests but w- what about you?" His brown eyes were practically pleading with her to hear him out. "I can't remember the last time you went out to do something for yourself and n-nobody else. What was it that Ned said his mom did? Shopping sprees and spa days? Coffee treats with her friends and date nights with his dad? Why aren't you doing any of those things?" His concern bled into his voice despite his best attempts to hide it. She tilted her head with a pout. Why did it seem like the roles were reversed? Suddenly he was the adult, nagging the exasperated kid, May, to spend time with her friends.

"Peter, I have friends. You can't be this bad at cooking without the social skills to make up for it." She joked, he didn't laugh.

"Your friends are your coworkers. And not that that's a bad thing, but the only time you hang out with them is during work hours. You're telling me to buy tickets to the theatre when you haven't even been to one yourself in months. I can't believe I, of all people, have to be the one to tell you this, but you need a social life." Finally, it seemed like May lost all the fight in her, slumping over in her seat. Peter noted that her hair narrowly avoided contact with her food.

"Okay, I see your point. But there's not much I can do for that." She lifted her head just to see him shaking in anticipation. Her eyes widened. "Now hold on a seco-" Peter didn't let her finish that sentence.

"Drop a shift." He said, smiling wide. "Just one. Preferably one at night, which is the ideal time for movie and dinner hangouts." She gave him a deadpanned stare as she drank her beer and he rolled his eyes. Don't give him that look, he thought this through! He'll use a portion of his money to help with the rent, and it'll be just enough to cover one of her shifts. It might even cover two, but he wouldn't ask that of her just yet. Peter had to ease her into this if he ever wanted her to agree. "I'll have the money, it'll be fine! And don't you dare say that my internship with Hammer won't be enough, 'cause in case you forgot, you're the one who suggested I take another one with Stark. And I think we can both agree when I say the September Foundation is bound to be well funded." He wanted so badly for her to agree to this, it'd ease both of their anxiety. She huffed, narrowing her eyes at him appraisingly as she considered the offer. Finally, she spoke.

"Fine. I'll drop a shift. And make some more friends." He pumped his fist up in the air with a victorious smile, but May's glare had him retreating into his original position. "On one condition. I'll let you use some of your paycheck,  _ some _ , but I demand that you use the rest for your own enjoyment." What a strange request. "I will pay for everything else. Dinner, MetroCards, and backpacks. Every. Single. Backpack. You hear me?" Peter laughed but agreed nonetheless with a nod of his head. "And who knows, maybe I'll find a boyfriend along the way."

Peter came to a halt, but he made sure his expression didn't betray any of his thoughts. Boyfriend? When he used Ned's mom's date with her husband as an example he meant the concept of literally leaving the house to go outside. Not dating! Not that he has anything against it but Ben... Peter blinked hard, he didn't want to think about that. And he guessed neither did Aunt May if she was already looking for other people. She was moving on, and after two years, Peter realized it was about time he did too. Shaking himself out of his stupor, Peter replied.

"Somewhere in the kitchen, Mr. Hang started jumping with joy." He said, Aunt May scoffed.

"As if you can talk." He tilted his head in confusion, not understanding what she was implying. But before he could ask, May had already wiped her hands on the napkin and dropped it on her empty plate. Just how long had they been talking for him not to notice this? "I'll take care of the plates if you return the bill?" He nodded and grabbed the black book that held the receipt and May's credit card, taking it up to the front counter. Once he got his paycheck on Sunday, he'll be the one paying for Thai! Peter leaned against the desk and waited for the waitress to finish whatever she was doing. Finally, she turned around to face him. She widened her eyes but soon settled her expression with a wide, toothy smile, albeit a bit shaky. Weird.

"H-hey, ready to go?" She asked. Finally, someone else in this huge world that stutters, it was starting to look like he was the only one.

"Uhh, yeah. Yeah!" He handed her the booklet and watched as she swiped his card through the scanner. It didn't work, she swiped again. For the second time, it didn't work, and she swiped again, but much shakier this time. Peter was starting to shake a bit of his own. What if they can't pay the bill? Is the card expired? Peter was borderline hyperventilating when he heard the two dings come from the machine, signaling that the process has been completed. He sighed, more relieved than he should have been. And to his surprise, so did the waitress. She looked like she had run a mile in a single second.

"Hah... sorry about that. I didn't scan it correctly." The anxiety she was radiating was practically suffocating, and sadly Peter could relate. He took pity on her and decided to get this over with as quickly as possible to minimize embarrassment. He took back the card and flashed her a kind smile, not sticking around long enough to see her reaction. Apparently, May did, though, she was watching him across the room having already thrown everything out. But when he got to her, she had her eyes closed and she was shaking her head in exasperated disappointment, muttering something about 'larb' under her breath.  _ What'd I do now _ , Peter thought, pouting. Neither of them dwelled on it too much, though.

As Peter and Aunt May exited the Thai restaurant, Peter couldn't help but feel a pool of excitement bubble up within him despite the frankly awful day he's had. Sure, now that he'll be working more days and hours he won't have as much time to hang out with his friends and go on patrol and he also doesn't know how Stark Industries even functions bu- agh, who is he kidding. This is awful and he needs a full night of sleep to even comprehend what's going on. But it'll be alright, it always is. 'Cause what can he say?

He larbs i- God damnit, how many times has he said this in the past couple hours?

>>>>> <<<<<

Tony was never one for awkward silence. Usually, if even the possibility of awkward silence presented itself to him, he would immediately fill it with humorous quips and his opinions on random topics. He would crush that silence before it crushed him. It's like the kill or be killed expression except instead of Tony's mortality being at stake, it's his pride. Unfortunately, there are always instances in life when he is unable to defeat it. One of those instances happens to be right now, as he slouches in the window seat of his sleek, black limo, trying to make himself as small as possible as eight pairs of eyes glared at him. Well, in reality, it was only six pairs of eyes that glared at him. The other two, belonging to none other than his fiance and best friend, were looking at him as they tried to conceal their laughter behind coughs after he'd finished his story. It wasn't working.

"Are you  _ kidding  _ me?" Bruce breathed out, as if he knew that if he spoke any louder he wouldn't be able to contain the rage he felt at that moment. And wouldn't that be disastrous? He just bought this car and he wouldn't want it to break into a million pieces after just two uses. "You dragged all of us out there tonight to help you make a job offer to Peter only for us to find out that the kid had  _ already applied?  _ And not only that, but you  _ rejected him? _ " God, he doesn't have to shove it in his face like that. Tony was already suffering enough after that nerve-racking night and he didn't need puny Banner making it worse. It seems like nobody else agreed, though.

"All of this could have been avoided if you had just given a stamp of approval the first time, Tony!" Happy yelled at him. Tony let out an affronted gasp, admittedly less dramatic than usual 'cause he didn't feel like annoying the already pissed of group of people. But can you blame him?! He was being attacked by his own bodyguard! Tony broke away from his slouched position and returned the favor of glaring at them with equal force.

"Fine, okay, you're right. None of you guys would have to have attended this party if I had just read through Peter's complete file the first time, and that's a mistake on my part. So for that, I apologize." They all looked surprised at his confession, probably expecting him to fight back. Tony paused for dramatic effect and then smirked,  _ they weren't wrong. _ His friends took one look at his face before groaning, realizing that this was the reason they could never have a proper conversation. "But let's be honest,  _ would you _ have avoided this gala if given the chance? I think not." He saw Bruce preparing to rant at him so he continued.

"Back off, Green Bean. I may not have been there for the whole conversation but from what I've heard you and the kid share millions of brain cells. Barely any kids his age read your books, let alone paperback books in general, and I'm sure that if you hadn't met him at this event tonight the self-confidence you so desperately need would still be dirt low compared to what it is now." Bruce scrunched his eyebrows, confused as to whether or not he should take that as a compliment or an insult. Either way, it was fairly obvious to see that he agreed. But Tony still felt the need to finish it off. "Hell, he even asked for your autograph. Pep and Natashalie, too. That would have never happened if I didn't make the stupid mistake." Okay, now it was Tony that couldn't tell whether he had complimented or insulted himself. But whatever! He turned his attention to dumb, dumber, dumbest, as he liked to call them. 

"Don't even get me started on you, Barnes, I'm not deaf and neither is anybody else in this car. We could hear your's and Clint's laughter from a mile away after binging that entire youtube playlist. Not to mention Sam, who said he would put the kid in his will the next time he saw him." He saw all three of the men back down from whatever arguments they were forming in their heads, sending a reluctant nod his way. And Tony didn't think he was hallucinating when he saw each of them try to hide a growing smirk on their face. Tony prepared for his final line where he would wrap up all remaining arguments.

"Now answer my original question: If given the chance, would you have avoided this gala?" He was met with complete and utter silence, even from Platypus and Pepper. The billionaire reveled in his victory, adjusting his sunglasses and leaning back into his seat with a smug smirk still present on his features. He hoped all of them learned a lesson today, never start a fight with a geniu-

" _ Yes. _ " He heard from a particular patriotic blond in the corner. "I would have avoided this gala at all costs. If I knew what was in store for tonight I would have locked myself in my room and never come out." Tony picked himself right back up and made sure everyone could see his rolling eyes at the statement.

"Quit being such an angsty teenager, Captain PSA-merica, your opinion is biased and therefore invalid." Steve choked out a scandalized squawk at Tony's new nickname for him, and the billionaire couldn't help but feel a sliver of satisfaction at the action. Rhodey chuckled and started speaking before Steve could even think of a retort.

"Anyway, did you ever manage to give the kid your card?" Tony scoffed. Yeah, he did, much later than expected or preferred. Hammer just had to start his show at that exact moment, huh? He doesn't buy it, and he doesn't think anyone else here did either, hence the question.

"Damn right, I did" He replied, huffing and crossing his arms. Pepper raised an eyebrow.

"Judging by your reaction I take it didn't go as well as you hoped?" No, no it did not.

"Well, no, not exactly. But to be fair I'm not sure what I expected." Did he expect Peter to break out into tears of joy and thank him for this amazing offer? No. But did he expect something  _ like _ that? Well... "You were right about him being petty, a lot more than I had prepared for but nothing I couldn't handle. He seemed very adamant about not leaving H.I just for a golden magnifying glass," He saw Clint's confused expression but he didn't have the energy to explain the inside joke to bird brain. Oh hey, he has an inside joke with the intern now. Ain't that nice? "but after I praised my company's coffee supply and told him how much easier it'd be to complete his project and get into the college of his choice if he joined us, I think he warmed up a bit. In the end, I just told him to take the weekend and call for more info, which hopefully he'll do. All we can do is wait to find out." They all nodded, but he wasn't done. "He definitely will, though."

All of them groaned, Natasha even putting in the effort to throw one the limo's complimentary peanut packs at his face. What? He's confident, sue him! And besides, how could he not be? No offense but full offense, Hammer Industries has nothing on his company. Over the roaring waves of his own ego, he could vaguely hear Bucky mutter 'can't be humble for five seconds.' Buzz off, Manchurian Candidate. And Tony was about to say that to him out loud when suddenly he saw the look on Clint's face, which was still scrunched up in confusion. Was he still caught up on the golden magnifying glass comment? Agh, might as well put the man out of his misery and ask.

"Hey, Katniss, you look like you've been sucking on a lemon. Something on your mind?" Yeah, he probably could have been nicer about that, but he had a reputation to uphold for christ's sake.

"No- well, actually, yeah." Tony tilted his head forward, silently asking him to continue. "It's just... I'm not saying he won't accept your offer, 'cause he probably will, but what makes you think he's gonna quit Hammer, too?" Tony froze, all traces of humor leaving his face and replaced with ice-cold seriousness as his brain moved a mile a minute. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes to try and backtrack this conversation. Finally, when he appeared to be done, he stared Clint straight in the eyes and muttered a single word.

" _ What? _ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anddddd that's the end! Like I said, nothing big happened, this was mostly just the aftermath of the gala. In case anyone was wondering who Mr. Hang was, I realized that's the name of the waiter at the Thai restaurant that Peter and May go to. So that's interesting. I also had to google what May and Peter were eating and I got larb and som tum. If I spelt that wrong please correct me! Also, that whole waitress scene? No idea what that was, but at least Peter has an anxiety buddy now. I didn't plan on mentioning Ben, but I felt obligated to since I was trying to foreshadow (does it count as foreshadow if I'm not subtle at all in the chapter notes?) a subplot for May's future relationship with Happy (See what I mean? I'm literally SAYING it, this can't count as foreshadowing.) Anyway, hope you liked it! Chapter 12 should be posted some time this week but until then, byeeee! :D


	12. How Do I Put A Downpayment On  A Coffin?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter freaks out over his paycheck, Spideychelle moment that I didn't plan on adding, Darla feels guilty but sorta makes up for it, and Peter once again freaks out. Featuring: MJ being her amazing self, poor Ronaldo, a horrible workload.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 12 is here!! Like the previous one, this chapter is kinda just giving information and developing subplots (Spideychelle this timeee) for the future. Also, this chapter has about the same word count as last chapter but it somehow feels longer?? Like??? Anyway, THANK YOUUUU to everyone who read, bookmarked, left a kudos, or commented on previous chapters! WE PASSED THE 6K READS MARK AHHHHH! Currently at 6366 reads, 282 kudos, and 69 bookmarks! And oml you guys have no idea how MUCH I LOVE READING ALL OF YOUR COMMENTS!! So once again, THANK YOU because all of them brighten my day. Anyway, enjoy chapter 12! (P.S from this point on I think my titles will just make no sense.)

So, turns out he lied about needing a night of sleep. Because apparently, he needed a hell of a lot more than that. To be specific: He needed two nights of sleep, three containers of rocky road ice cream, and one painful phone call to Stark Industries to understand what’s going on with his life. Actually, no, all he needed was the sleep and the phone call. The ice cream was the morale support since all May decided to do was laugh at his suffering. But that’s beside the point. Peter spent his entire Saturday stressing over a notebook full of prepared questions and an iPhone while simultaneously learning everything there is to know about Greek mythology.

Why was he researching Greek mythology, you ask? Because for some reason that's the decathlon team's next random review topic. Like seriously, why are they all so scattered? Once again, though, it's not like he's complaining. To be perfectly honest he's ecstatic. He had a whole Greek mythology phase in fifth grade that never really wore off over the years, so now excitement just bubbles up inside him whenever it's mentioned. Sure, he could tell you everything on the periodic table without checking any references, but he could just as easily tell you the twelve labors of Heracles.

Anyway, one might say he went a bit overboard when preparing questions for the inevitable phone call but this is  _ Stark Industries _ we’re talking about, all of their products just scream overboard. And unfortunately for him, that’s not the only thing that’s overboard about their company. Much like Hammer Industries, they have a very enthusiastic receptionist. A small part of Peter considered the idea that maybe the reason Hammer hired Davis was to replicate Tony Stark’s employee. But that couldn’t be it, right? ...It’s pitiful that he isn’t sure. But back to the matter at hand, Peter couldn’t tell if the cheery receptionist made him feel better or worse about this whole situation. 

When he first called, meek and stuttering, he politely told the woman his name and inquired about what days and how many hours he'd be doing, just to make sure his plan of having two internships at the same time wouldn't be foiled. And everything was going okay until the woman said in the  _ happiest goddamn voice  _ that'd he be working on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays. That's right, the exact same days as H.I. Luckily it was just the days that overlapped, not the hours, and that meant that he'd be working the night shift at Stark Industries, which personally he was ecstatic about. He always loved the view of the night sky when working, it felt strangely comforting. Like there were no deadlines or ticking clocks, just silence and the blinking lights of cars stuck in traffic. But for the same reason it's amazing, it's a horrible problem. He likes working at night so he does all his homework at night! When is he gonna get his work done now?!

And that's how the rest of the conversation went. With him asking reasonable questions and steadily losing all his chill as the assistant happily gave him the most inconvenient answers possible. The hours didn't overlap, but they were  _ five minutes apart,  _ so no break for him and a lot more transportation struggle. Did they expect him to teleport or something? Because as far as he knows, traveling that long of a distance in that short amount of time should be humanly impossible. Although to be fair, S.I didn't know he'd keep a second internship. He also wasn't completely human, and Jesus wasn't  _ that _ a horrifying thought. But anyway, his shift ended at 11:00 p.m, so no more dinners with May on those days. There was, however, another scholarship. But admittedly he would have been way more excited if they had given him more details other then 'scholarship for your university as a result of your individual project'. Ugh, why is this so complicated? Why is the reason for it being complicated the fact that it's  _ not  _ complicated? Did that even make sense?!

On the bright side, S.I was a lot like H.I in other aspects. His expenses were covered for one meal and one drink every day, his responsibilities were essentially the same except for something the receptionist called "SB time" that she chose not to elaborate on- just another reason he didn't like her- and he had the same amount of breaks. So no major changes, really. Oh, except for the MONEY. Mr. Stark kept his word about his paycheck. It was $20 an hour! So combine that with Hammer, and you get $35 an hour. He's no Jeff Bezos, but who gives a crap? He can actually help around the house now!

Speaking of paychecks, he just got his from Ronaldo.

Peter stared down at the slip of paper that carried his name and his employer's name, 'Justin Hammer' written in fresh, black ink. The paper was warm as if it was just printed, and Peter knew that if he ran his finger along the signature, it'd smudge. That's how new it was. Hell, it even smelled new. Peter was admiring the way they had included his full name- Peter Benjamin Parker- in the box when suddenly it occurred to him that he should read the amount. Silently laughing at and scolding himself for his stupidity, he looked at the amount.

And died. Yeah, he's dead. That's the end of his horribly written story that had too many pop culture references. Roll credits and get out.

Haha, just kidding. But  _ my god _ . Since when was his salary this much? When he saw '$15 an hour' in the email, he never did the math to figure out how much he would earn in two weeks, he just saw double digits and went with it. Peter did the math, mentally begging for this to be some sort of mix up. Okay, so it's been two weeks and therefore 8 days of working. Six of those days were weekdays, meaning 24 hours, and two were weekends, meaning 12 hours. Add it up and you get 36 hours, which multiplied by $15 gets him- Peter's eyes darkened and he once again evaluated the amount: $540. It... it was correct. And before anyone asks, no. He did not expect more, he expected less, WAY LESS. Is it stupid that he thought he would be getting a fourth of this? Probably.

Peter sighed. It wasn't like he wanted less, that was even more stupid. He would gratefully accept any penny given to him, and right now he had a truckload of pennies. This was more than enough to cover everything he needed it to cover, and then some. But would he gladly accept it? He didn't know. In all honesty, he didn't understand what he was feeling right now. Was it embarrassment at the large amount? No, that couldn't be it, plenty of people here made way more than him. So what was this?! Why did the money feel so... dirty? Maybe it was because the guy who bestowed it upon him almost killed him. Yeah, maybe. Peter sat there in silence for a little bit longer, still trying to make sense of everything when a loud voice blasted him out of the tight restraints of his mind.

"PARKER I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON'T RESPOND THIS TIME I'M COMING OVER THERE TO ASSASSINATE YOU" Jesus christ he forgot he was on a call. Peter fumbled around with his iPhone, trying not to drop it, and held it to his ear as he silently apologized to everyone around him for the interruption because  _ that's how loud the voice was _ .

"Heyyy, MJ, s-sorry about that." He said softly, trying to laugh his embarrassment away. "Just got a little distracted."

"With what?" And just like that, MJ was back to her usual bored self. But friendly bored, if you know what he means. Peter sighed and looked back down at the paycheck that caused him so many problems

"My paycheck." He heard MJ let out a soft snort at the other end of the line. "I finally got it after two weeks and it's- it's just... a lot more than I expected. N-not that that's a bad thing! It's great it really is, and I- wait I'm not bragging either!" God, he was rambling, and MJ was snorting much louder than before. Well, at least he'd managed to make her laugh. Ain't that a rare occurrence. "The money just feels so  _ dirty,  _ like I shouldn't accept it. And I don't know why!" He also didn't know why he was spilling his entire heart out to the girl on the other end of the line. At most, all she would give him is a one-word response. He expected MJ to call him a loser and hang up like she usually did, but to his surprise, she gave him an honest, thoughtful reply.

"Peter..." He held his breath, "all money that stems from a corrupt government and the 1% is dirty. You're not special." Peter broke out into a fit of chuckles. Yes, MJ could be very thoughtful some times. One might even call her philosophical. Catching his breath, he spoke.

"Gee, thanks, MJ." He sarcastically quipped, but no real bite to his words. "You always know just what to say. Would you consider being my new therapist?"

"Depends, how much do you pay? Mental health be damned if I can't feed my fifteen cats." She asked, playing along. Jesus, first he got her to smile, then he got her to laugh, and now she's playing along with his horrible jokes?! MJ's losing her stone-cold reputation by the second.

"Oh, you can take my entire salary, but be aware that it's the result of American capitalism." MJ choked on the other end of the line, "It's $540, but at  _ what cost? _ " MJ's chuckling suddenly halted, leaving them in tense silence. Peter started to panic, wondering what he might have said to kill the joyful mood. But just when he considered making a quick apology and hanging up, she finally said something.

"... $540?" He squeaked a quick sound of confirmation, scared of what was coming. "Do... do you know how many marbles you can buy for a slingshot with that kind of money? I can see it now, Flash flopping to the nurse's office after losing his ability to walk once we pelt his leg with thousands of ammo." And just like that, they both dissolve into a fit of giggles. The humorous air of happiness was back. And yeah, he giggles, what about it?

"Hah, but seriously, what are you gonna use the money for?" She asked, taking deep breaths as she recovered.

"Well, I'm gonna help May with the rent, that's for sure, but she made me promise to use some of it for my own enjoyment and hobbies. You know, Legos, books, and... more Legos. I could do anything, really." Peter thought about it a little more before continuing. "I think I should try something new, though."

"Something new?" He could practically see her quirking her eyebrow like she always did when she was curious about something.

"I told May to go outside more, hang out with her friends. Maybe I should listen to my own advice. I'll try going to a bubble tea place or something, maybe a bookstore. Possibilities are endless when you got dirty money, after all." He joked. "But yeah, a movie could be nice."

"You wanna go to the movies with someone?" She had this weird edge to her voice that he didn't understand, but oh well. It's MJ, you can never really understand her at any given moment.

"Yeah. I would." He said softly. Why was he speaking softly all of a sudden? MJ was silent for a few more seconds.

"Hmm, well, okay. Next Friday sound good?" Peter started stuttering, preparing to ask her what she's talking about. But she didn't give him a chance. "Good. It's a date then, loser." She hung up. She hung up on him and provided absolutely no explanation for her words. So Peter just sat there at his desk, staring blankly at the phone with an unreadable expression clouding over his features. And that's how he stayed for the next five minutes until Lana threw a paper clip at his face and told him Darla wanted to speak to him in her office. All he could remember doing was nodding dumbly and making his way to the elevator, not caring how anyone would react to his zombie-like state. He didn't even understand enough to start freaking out over why he was called to Darla's office in the first place. Whether he was in trouble, getting fired, or getting a raise to his already unreasonable sum of money- he didn't care. Because he only had one thing on his mind.

He had a date. With MJ.

Of course, it wasn't a  _ real  _ date, they were just friends after all. And you know, even the word friend could be a stretch. A more accurate word would probably be a comfortable acquaintance. He had a date- no, an appointment to hang out- with his comfortable acquaintance. Yeah, that's more like it. Peter absentmindedly stepped out of the elevator and over to Darla's office door. He could call it whatever he wanted, but he couldn't take that dopey smile off his face even if he tried to.

He didn't try to.

>>>>> <<<<<

Darla considered herself to be a good person. She was smart, hardworking, respectful, and she always gave her spare change to homeless people on the street. Sure, she could be a little demanding sometimes, but that doesn't make her a bad person, right? She recalled a memory from last year when she was on her way to get coffee from the cafeteria and she overheard Ronaldo talking about her to the janitors. He said that was determined, and whatever she set her sights on, she crushed it like a badass bulldozer. She should have been flattered, knowing her inferiors thought of her that way, but she couldn't help but feel sick being described as a bulldozer of all things. They destroy everything in their paths without any regard to the objects around them. They weren't careless, but they were insensitive. So ever since that day, there was always a small voice in her head that whispered 'insensitive' at her whenever she ignored someone's personal feelings in favor of accomplishing her goal.

The whispers were just a constant thought that bounced around her mind at every given moment. They never went away but they also never got any louder, so Darla never thought of them to be a serious problem. She guessed that was her own stupid mistake, thinking that just because it never got louder before meant that it wouldn't ever get louder at all. That's why when alarm bells started blaring in her head and the voice screamed 'INSENSITIVE' as she stood on stage next to Justin, she knew she'd made a horrible decision

She stood on stage next to her boss and helped him as he brought everyone's attention to a mortified teenage boy. She was the one who gave the signal to the employee to have him shine that damn spotlight on the kid. And Peter himself? He'd stood there frozen, not knowing what to do, and probably more embarrassed than he had ever been in his entire life. No matter what she told herself, Darla knew that at least half of his horrified expression was her fault. And what was the reason for even doing that in the first place? They could have explained the Hammer Industries Internship Foundation without ever mentioning the kid's name, but no, they chose to be monsters and do everything the hard way. They did that just so they could get a one-up on Stark and intercept his and Peter's conversation,  _ and she calls teenagers petty _ . How ironic is it that the man who stepped in on Peter's behalf was Tony Stark himself? Or at least, she thinks it was on Peter's behalf. You could never tell what the man was thinking, and it was especially hard since he's stated in almost every interview that he hates all children on the face of the planet. Either way, she and Hammer acted like jerks at that party.

Yeah, they gave him a scholarship for his project on synthetic webbing, but they only told him during that spotlight confrontation, which probably only embarrassed him more. Also, what even was synthetic webbing, and how did Hammer know that was Peter's personal project? She doubts Peter would have ever told the man, so it must have been overheard by Hammer somewhere or on an official document. But that's beside the point. She has realized her mistakes, and now it's time to make up for them. Of course, she's not going to apologize. Her pride as Peter's workplace superior won't allow that. But she can still make it up to him in her own way, the way that matters. Darla was still pacing the length of her office when a knock sounded at her door. Hastily she said a quick 'come in!', not prepared for the sight she saw.

Peter was standing at the door with a blank look on his face and cloudy eyes, still holding his paycheck. Didn't Ronaldo deliver that to him over ten minutes ago? Why on earth is it still in his hands? Agh, whatever, that's not important right now. Even with Peter's empty features, his cloudy brown eyes still revealed a swirling pool of wonder, probably curious as to why he was called into her office. Not wasting a single second, Darla beckoned Peter to come in and take a seat. Once he did, she took out the document that she needed for this meeting and began.

"Hello, Mr. Parker." Peter gave her a small, shaky smile and muttered a quick 'Hi Ms. Fledgerson' in return. Ugh, go ahead and rip her heart out, why don't you. "Do you by any chance have an idea of why you were called here?" Peter looked confused for a second before a shimmer of hope filled his eyes. Oh god, she hoped he wasn't here under the impression that he'd be getting a raise. That'd make this conversation even more awkward. Peter raised his paycheck and Darla braced herself.

"You gave me too much money for my payment?" I- what? Darla gave him an incredulous stare, her mouth opening and closing repeatedly. He honestly thought they gave him too much money? And even if they did, why would anyone bring that to attention instead of staying quiet?! No, the amount wasn't a misprint.

"Erm... no." She answered, and Peter deflated.  _ What the heck?  _ "It's about the H.I.I.F scholarship, the one we mentioned at the gala." Peter froze with his eyes as wide as saucers and Darla finally decided to address his weird behavior. "You look shocked, Peter, any reason why?"

"Uh... well," He paused, "I heard you mention it at the gala, and I thought about it a lot, but for a second I forgot it was real." Peter seemed to notice her muddled expression and jumped to explain. "It's just that it wasn't mentioned in the email or any time before the gala so I'm still a little confused about it, heh." Peter sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, the tips of his ears dusting a light pink. Ah, right, that's because this scholarship didn't  _ exist  _ before the gala. Not to her knowledge, at least, Hammer just gave her the flashcards and she'd read them out loud. She found out about it at the same time Peter did, she was just better at hiding her shock than he was. But it's not like she would ever say that to him, though,

"Well, lucky for you, that's why I've called this meeting. To give you more details regarding the scholarship." Peter straightened up a bit and Darla assumed that was him getting a tad bit more comfortable about the whole matter.  _ Good,  _ she thought. "First off, the requirements needed to be fulfilled for this scholarship are quite simple. You're already doing a good job at keeping them up, but there's still more to do. You'll need to maintain your current grades in every subject, so straight A's, you'll have to have to attend every internship session to its completion, unless you have an excused absence, and you'll have to complete all of your internship responsibilities to an exceptional level of performance, which you have been doing." She saw Peter nodding along, not even flinching at the standards he had to live up to. Darla didn't know if she could do the same in his position. "And finally, you will have to make notable advancements on your synthetic webbing proposal. Every week or so you'll make a progress report on what you've accomplished so far, and it's expected that by the end of your internship here at Hammer Industries, you will have your professional finished result paired with a detailed outline describing exactly what it is." Hah, how crazy is it that even Darla doesn't know what it is. She knows that Peter is the one making it it must be impressive, but that name gave her absolutely no hints as to what it was or why it was needed. She guesses she'll have to wait and see, though. Peter perked up and she tuned back in.

"Will I be working on the synthetic webbing here during work or on my own time?" He asked

"Here. You'll have a designated time slot as to when and where you'll be working on it every session."

"But am I allowed to work on it outside of H.I?" Darla thought about it. Hammer never gave her the rules as to when and where Peter was allowed to tinker with his little assignment, but there couldn't be any harm in letting him do it during his personal time, right? Yeah.

"I can't find a reason for you not to be able to." She told him honestly. Peter's smile grew a little less wobbly and he microscopically clenched his fist in victory. That's an odd reaction. Shrugging it off, Darla reached down and pulled a printed document out from her desk drawer, scanning it and passing it over to Peter, who accepted it with curious eyes.

"This is your newly updated schedule that you'll be following come Wednesday this week, and I've already emailed you the details about the scholarship requirements, just in case you need a reference. Learn it, memorize it, and you're good to go." Darla stood up to walk to the door and Peter mirrored the action. "Have a good day!" And with that, Peter quietly thanked her and closed the door behind him, leaving Darla alone in her office and alone with her thoughts.

Well, she did it. She made it up to him in the only way that she could, through work. If it was anybody else she would have expected them to break down crying and quit this job, but she guessed Peter was a special case. She just hoped he could bear the growing workload on his shoulders without falling to pieces like a rambling Jenga tower. Darla sat back down in her black, rolling leather chair. What was she supposed to do again? Oh right.

Tear Justin Hammer a new one for withholding information from her again.

>>>>> <<<<<

Peter clutched the schedule in his hands as he shouldered his messenger bag and made his way out the front doors of H.I. That meeting was unfortunately not what he expected. Although to be fair, what he expected wouldn't have made any sense either way. Like c'mon, a pay decrease? Peter kicked a stray pebble on the sidewalk, it hurts to hope. But that's beside the point. Starting Tuesday, his schedule gets a bit more complicated. Usually, his day starts by dropping off his stuff and getting coffee and lunch orders from the employees in the marketing department. Next, he checks his account for emails sent by the Research and Development department regarding what equipment and chemicals they need to be delivered. Then, just before his break, the Public Relations department assigns him to make a document stating the latest comments about and rankings of their company in specific magazines and websites which he then prints multiple copies of to hand o- oh my god. Now that he actually takes the time to list it out, it kind of sounds like a lot. How is not dead on his feet by now with this, school and Spider-Man stacked up? Or is he already dead inside, but just too emotionless to notice it? ...Anyway.

Starting Tuesday, he can forget about printing and handing out anything. All he'll do is type it up, email it to Ronaldo- which, by the way, is pretty depressing and he feels a little guilty about it- and the rest of the time will be spent working on his synthetic webbing at his desk. The email he got said he was allowed to use any equipment the company had as long as he logged down his usage and didn't break it beyond repair. "Didn't break it beyond repair" seems like pretty low standards to him, though. Also, how long do they expect this to take him? Darla said by the end of his internship, but that's in over six months from now, and he's further along than any of them know. All that's left is perfecting his formula by minimal trial and error, so how does he make progress reports of "notable advancements"? Peter scanned his MetroCard and climbed up the stairs leading to the railway, sliding between the doors of his train just before they closed.

Eh, whatever, he'll figure it out. He's just glad she permitted him to work on it outside of H.I, or else his Stark internship would be near useless. Peter looked out the window next to his seat to see the renowned building itself, and promptly short-circuited his brain.  _ Stark.  _ He'd been so distracted by his new schedule and his appointment to hang out with his comfortable acquaintance that'd he forgotten about his  _ other _ appointment to suffer with a not so comfortable stranger, Tony Stark. His internship started tomorrow from 7:30 to 11:30 pm, holy crap. Peter ran his hands through his hair and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tried to slow down his racing thoughts. He had to figure out what to say, what to bring,  _ how the hell he was going to travel lord knows how many blocks in five minutes,  _ and so much more. He should probably also return that badge he brought home to its rightful owner, it's been so long he almost forgot it existed. What was the lady's name? Carly? Catherine? Oh, maybe that was the lady he spoke to on the phone. If that was the case he would just burn the badge instead. Karma's a bi- god damnit, Peter, stop being a petty drama queen.

The September Foundation would provide him a great opportunity, yes, but with it came another long list of responsibilities. More coffee runs, more equipment fetching, more progress reports, more  _ work.  _ Not to mention whatever the hell "SB Time" was. Jesus Christ, thinking about it isn't helping but he has to think about it sometime in the next few hours if he wants to be prepared for tomorrow! He couldn't do this now, he can't organize his plans on public transportation that reeks of garbage and body odor. God damnit, reign in it, Parker! Sure, it was a lot to do, but he could manage it, right? He just has to stay focused, work hard, and keep his end goal in mind. Remember, Peter: College resume, scholarship, paycheck. The end justifies the means, after all. It'll be worth it.

It'll all be worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 12 has now ended! Like usual, I projected my own interests into this story with Greek mythology and now I shall elaborate on random information. The Disney movie was called "Hercules" but I heard somewhere that that was actually his Roman name, and his Greek one was Heracles. It has "Hera" in the beginning because Zeus thought naming his son after his wife might lessen her anger, but ofc it didn't. I might be mistaken, though, this is all just information that I randomly picked up over the years and could be wrong about. NEXT CHAPTER IS THE STARK INTERNSHIP PEOPLE!! CAN I GET A WHOOP WHOOP?! Anyway, I hoped you guys liked this chapter! Chapter 13 should also be posted some time this week so look out for that! Byeeee see you next time! :D


	13. How I'm Not Mutilated By Now Is A Mystery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter swings like his life depends on it, which it probably does, Tony does espionage, and Peter reevaluates his life choices. Featuring: Tired Happy, random receptionist that's too happy for this time of day, demons, suspicious H.I.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 13 AHHHH. Took me five days but at last, here we are. IT'S THE FIRST DAY AT STARK INDUSTRIES and while I wanted to do the whole day in a single chapter, I realized that's impossible given how much I write. Like seriously I spent almost 5,000 words on an intro. Anyway, Peter's first day will be split up into parts, maybe like 2-3. THANK YOUUUU to everyone who read, left a kudos, commented, or bookmarked previous chapters! We are currently at 320 kudos, 75 bookmarks, AND 7394 READS!! WE GOT OVER 1,000 MORE READS IN JUST FIVE DAYS!! Also, I just wanna say that I read and appreciate every single one of your comments! It astonishes me that so many people want to read my story so thank you all for that. 
> 
> Anyway, I got a little stuck with this chapter and that's kind of sad considering how excited I was to get to this part, but I hope it's still pretty decent. Hope you enjoy chapter 13! (P.S I can't tell if 13 is a lucky or unlucky number in this case.)

Peter always said he was going to throw himself out a window one day, he just never thought that day was today.

No, seriously, he's going to throw himself out a window on a cloudy Monday night when the earth reeks of old rain. He can see how that's a little unbelievable, though. Usually, whenever he said he'd do it it was because of a minor inconvenience. Whether it be a stubbed toe, a particularly heavy load of homework, or empty web cartridges, Peter always found a way to make a sarcastic joke about death and jumping out windows. Or at least, he thought he was being sarcastic, now he really can't tell.

Yesterday, as he so distraughtly stated, the time difference between when his Hammer internship ends and when his Stark internship starts is five minutes. Yes, your humanoid ears heard that right,  _ five minutes.  _ How the hell is he going to pull that off? He doesn't know, but slinging his way there sounds like his best bet if he doesn't want to get fired on his first day for lack of punctuality. So here he is, at 7:28, patiently- Lies. Complete lies.- waiting for his shift to end so he can launch himself off the ledge. And don't worry about this being some careless, on-the-fly plan, 'cause Peter thought it through this time. After his whole freak-out session on the train yesterday, he flopped on his bed, took a large gulp of a Monster energy drink, and pulled out another notebook to make  _ another  _ overly complex plan.

According to google maps, it would take Peter an average of 11 minutes to sprint eight blocks, which unfortunately is still about double what he needs. However, according to 'Avenger Wannabe Data'- courtesy of his guy in the chair, although he still complains about the name- it would take Spider-Man an average of 6 minutes when leisurely swinging. So the question is, how fast could he go if he imagined being hunted and chased by Michael Myers? He likes to think he'd be a lot faster, so that's what he'll be doing today. The knife-wielding maniac may seem slow but then again, this guy survived being burned alive and always catches his victims, so Peter doesn't want to test his luck.

Next, Peter scoped the area surrounding Stark Industries, which turned out pretty okay in the end by his standards. It seemed like the gods were granting him a single favor in return for all his continuous suffering. Surprisingly, right next to S.I was a cozy little coffee shop that had a small dark alley outside for their dumpsters. You know what that means, Peter's going dumpster diving again. Although, the word "again" seems pretty concerning and he probably shouldn't mention that detail to Ned and MJ the next time he sees them. Therefore, after Peter swings as fast as spiderly possible- See?! But he's not even full spider either!- he'll land in the trash to avoid being seen and then sprint his way inside.

The second part of the plan should take about 30 seconds, leaving him with no time to change out of his Spider-Man suit. And because of that, Peter made the wise choice to  _ not _ wear his Spider-Man suit. Or at least, it seems wise  _ now.  _ Peter's a hundred percent positive that he'll end up regretting that choice later. But for now, the only thing protecting his identity is a ski mask, and hopefully, that'll be enough.

Of course, the success of this plan depends on him timing this perfectly. His moral compass won't let him leave before his shift officially ends so as long as he leaves at 7:30 on the dot, he should be perfectly fine. How much time as passed since he started this mental rant? Peter looked down at his phone to check the time.

And suddenly he was plummeting towards the pavement.

>>>>> <<<<<

"Sometimes I wonder how you're not homeless yet."

Tony paused in the action of peeking behind a pillar in favor of giving the voice an incredulous look. The voice in question just happened to belong to his bodyguard, Happy Hogan, who was currently leaning against the pillar to his left and playing Candy Crush on his phone. "Excuse me?"

"It is," Happy checked the time, "7:30 in the evening, a time when most business people such as your fiancé are sitting in a pile of paperwork to help their company get money, and what are you doing?" Happy looked up to give him an unimpressed stare, "Playing espionage over an intern and burning holes with your eyes into the company's front doors. You use night shifts as an excuse to obsess over the most minor things." Wha- espionage? He's not a spy, for Christ's sake! That's Natasha's job. This is called patiently waiting behind a fairly large obstacle for a certain human being to arrive.

Tony uncomfortably fidgeted and wrinkled his nose, letting out a quiet, unsure scoff at Happy. "I'm not playing espionage, I'm simply observing. And by the way, by doing this- observing, that is- I  _ am  _ getting this company money. That intern is an investment." A very troublesome investment, might he say, judging by the endless supply of snarky comebacks and the mysterious grudge against Capsicle. However, Tony won't lie and say it wasn't worth it in the end.

"And you already invested a couple of days ago, there's no idea to worry about it now. So would you be so kind as to explain how stalking your employees is of any importance?" Tony rolled his eyes turned back to look at the door, it was 7:31 now, only four minutes left. Happy narrowed his eyes and rapidly tapped his foot against the white, marble floor, obviously waiting for an answer. "If you don't say anything I'm gonna be under the impression that you don't have an excuse for this." Tony finally gave a reply.

"First of all, it's called observing,  _ not  _ stalking. And second," Tony let out an exhausted sigh, "I've done more work this weekend than any of you could possibly know." For the first time in probably forever, Tony wasn't exaggerating. The past thirty-six hours had been a blur of movement: phone calls, schedule adjustments, hacking- you didn't hear that last part from him, though. And all because of one measly comment from Clint about how Peter didn't necessarily have to quit Hammer Industries to work with him. Tony swore he went through the five stages of grief in the span of one minute.

At first, he was confused, maybe a little shocked at the ludicrous implication, because the whole concept  _ was  _ ludicrous, right? Who would continue to work for that chipmunk-looking wack job when you could forget that shady chapter in your life and work at Stark Industries? And most importantly, who could balance two internships on top of school, clubs, and an active social life? The answer was nobody because that's  _ ludicrous _ . Nobody normal, at least, geniuses or superhumans were a different story. And that's when Tony moved up a stage.

Peter wasn't just a regular high school kid, he was a genius who got a scholarship to the top STEM school in Queens. Keyword: Genius. He wanted to know who could possibly handle that workload, he got his answer, and now he deeply regrets asking. Tony's head started working against itself, much to the dismay of his ego, presenting all the reasons why Peter would keep that job. Peter said all that mattered to him was the experience, a paycheck, and coffee. S.I would give him twice as much working experience as Hammer, but that didn't mean the weasel's company was completely worthless in that sense either. S.I offered more money but that doesn't just magically bankrupt Hammer. S.I had better quality coffee than Hammer but for  _ Christ's sake  _ who would throw away the opportunity to have a Starbucks drink every hour of the day?! People who  ** weren't  ** geniuses, that's who. Onto stage three.

Okay, so turns out Peter had quite the motivation to continue working with Hammer, given his genius status and everything. But just because you're a genius doesn't mean you're not a psychopath, either. Peter was there at the 2010 Stark Expo, he'd had a near-death experience courtesy of Justin Hammer and he  _ still _ chose to apply. Like a psycho. At first Tony was a little concerned, because who just ignores something like that? But in the end, he brushed it off, telling himself that Peter only willingly worked in the same building as the murderer because he was desperate for a job, and that was all the more reason to give him a business card and in turn, a way out! But now here Peter was, possibly taking  _ both _ jobs, and ignoring every sense of self-preservation he has. You know,  _ like a psycho.  _ Not that Tony cared about Peter's self-preservation in the first place, this is just common decency. He wanted to ask Clint for his opinion on how stupid it sounded but that seemed counterintuitive. Stage four slammed into him like a truck once he reluctantly accepted that Peter was, in fact, a psychopath.

Tony always knew what to do in these situations, but there he was in that limo staring at Clint with wide eyes as he felt completely helpless. He also felt a bit annoyed, to be honest. He didn't like the idea of that kid purposely putting himself in dangerous situations, and whether Peter liked it or not, anything that Justin Hammer stuck his nose in was a dangerous situation. Once again, this is just common decency. He had to find a way to shut Hammer down, he had to pull Peter away from that company, he had to do so many things because he knew for a fact nobody else was gonna do it for him. And if he can't accomplish this with missiles and an iron suit, he'll solve it with his brain.

At that point, he had entered a territory that he could finally understand: Strategy. He needed a plan and he needed one fast, but oh well, he always did work better under pressure. So that's what he did, he gathered his resources and he got to scheming. Now that's what you call acceptance.

"You just gonna stare off into the distance or are you gonna tell me what you mean?" Oh right, he was talking to Happy. Tony checked his watch again, 7:32. Sure, he had enough time for a monologue.

"Despite popular belief, Clint could be smart sometimes." He is a secret agent, after all. "What he said about Peter not having to quit Hammer to come here was true, no matter how much I hate to admit it. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to do everything in my power to prevent that from happening." He stated with determination. Happy tilted his head back as if looking to the gods for the strength to get through this conversation, and groaned.

"Why can't anything be simple with you, Tony?" Tony very pointedly ignored that comment.

"The original plan for Peter's internship had him working on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays- and that's entirely too convenient." He heard Happy mutter 'of course it is'. "After a little bit of hacking into Hammer's server- which is perfectly fine because I'm about 50% sure he did that to us, too- I found Peter's working days: Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays. So you know what I did?" Tony was smirking now, the smug satisfaction surrounding the man's aura was palpable.

"I don't, I really don't. I'm not sure I want to." Happy said, the pain evident in his voice as he dragged his hands down his face.

"I made some phone calls and had Peter's workdays at S.I changed to the exact same days as Hammer." Happy's face whipped to face him, and Tony mistakenly took that as him being impressed. "Unfortunately I couldn't have the hours changed, too, but at least they're only five minutes apart. I don't care how smart Peter is, no one can run that fast in such a short amount of time." A time that was quickly dwindling, might he say. 7:33. "Hammer's servers show that Peter clocked in today, and left at the official time. Now all that's left to do is wait for him to arrive late, watch him freak out, and see as he eventually realizes that he can't successfully keep two internships."

"I'm sorry," Happy interjected, slightly waving his hand around, "And what exactly is the point of doing all that? I get that Hammer is a dirtbag but as far as I know he hasn't done anything wrong involving Peter." He did, actually, but Tony didn't blame Happy for not noticing. To everyone else, it seemed like Hammer was Peter's fairy godmother or something. Giving him an internship and a scholarship, too. But Tony knew better, it was all for his own company's benefit, nothing but a PR ploy. He just hoped Peter knew that, too, since Peter holding Hammer on a pedestal for his selfish actions could potentially be an inconvenience for Tony in the long run. Tony decided to give Happy a different answer.

"Maybe not, but who takes  _ two _ internships? Most people can barely handle one, it's not healthy to have that busy of a schedule. Once Peter sees that he can't handle the pressure today, he'll quit Hammer, and it'll be a win for everybody. Well, except Hammer, of course, but his loss counts as a win for me."

"...Sure." Happy said with narrowed eyes. "But let's say he doesn't say he doesn't quit Hammer and manages to go to both internships right on time." Tony rolled his eyes but otherwise stayed silent. "He'll still have the same workload, except now, thanks to your schedule changes, it's just way more inconvenient. So technically, you'd be making his life... harder." Harder? He wouldn't be making it harder, the whole point of this plan was to make it easier! This was just Happy dragging on his plans again, the man really needed another hobby. Knitting, birdwatching, photography- hell, maybe just a girlfriend- anything that will get him to tone down the rebelliousness. Although, he guessed that sounded pretty hypocritical coming from a guy like him. Nonetheless, Tony scoffed, albeit a tad bit quieter, and dare he say hesitantly.

"Happy, I appreciate your input for a hypothetical and very much impossible situation, but in case you haven't noticed, I have one of the highest IQs in the continent. I'm not stupid enough to make that bad of a plan." …Okay, so that second statement may be a lie at times. And judging by the way Happy's stare turned deadpan, he guessed the man agreed. But he was fairly confident this time! Tony once again checked his watch, it was half-past 7:34. Just thirty more seconds and he can finally tell Happy 'I told you so'.

Tony nudged Happy and resumed his spyi-  _ observing _ . "Watch that door, Happy, and bask in my victory." Peter was going to be late, that was a given, but Tony was still deciding how he'd deal with it. Having someone lecture the kid on his first day seemed a little extreme- not that he considered any tiny human's feelings- but he really had to get his message across. Maybe a disappointed stare for an extended period of time? He could give everyone in the lobby a raise just to stare and the kid and silently shake their heads. It'd be traumatizing, sure, but that's a risk he's willing to take. Five seconds left.

He can already see Hammer's distressed face as the child prodigy leaves his company to work at S.I. Tony just hopes he has his phone charged when that day happens, he'd like to have that moment caught on camera to be preserved for centuries. Hammer will go through the stages of grief, just like him, except in this case he'll skip acceptance and have the four levels on loop forever. And yeah, Tony may sound a bit cruel, but it's not like that's his fault, blame karma.

_ Four _ .

Hammer used Peter as a PR ploy, as an excuse to make himself seem charitable and selfless when it couldn't be further from the truth. Everything that man does is either a dirty lie or just another way to spite Tony. Hah, look how well that turned out for him. Hammer should take this as a learning experience, shove a Stark and you'll be the one who ends up on the ground. Now Tony's the one on top.

_ Three _ .

But... on top? That makes it sound like a competition, like Tony's the manipulative one, but that can't be true! …Right? He's  _ helping  _ Peter by doing all this; He's giving him experience, coffee, a paycheck, everything he needs to succeed, everything that Hammer  _ didn't  _ give hi- okay, see this is why it sounds like a competition. And yeah, maybe when his interest first grew in Peter it was because he knew the kid's knowledge would benefit his company, and that having the synthetic webbing developed at S.I could give the boost their new medical department desperately needed, and that- oh.

_ Two _ .

No, no. This is absurd. Hammer is bad, Tony is good, and Peter is just... there.

_ One _ .

SEE?! Nothing to worry about. Tony straightened his back and held his chin high, a smug grin spreading over his face as he turned to Happy, condescending remark at the ready. But just before he opened his mouth,  _ just as the clock hit zero- _

Peter came bursting through the door.

And Happy lived up to his nickname for just a few seconds.

>>>>> <<<<<

Peter's going to hell, he already knows it. Hell, Hades, whatever underworld for the evil there is- that's where he's headed. He's way too petty and has made way too many dark jokes for the idea of heavenly paradise as a final destination to be a possibility. But just because he's going down there, that doesn't mean he knows what to expect when he gets there. Sure there's probably fire and demons and maybe the occasional three-headed dog but that's all speculation. That's why if there's one thing he's sure of,

_ it's that nothing could possibly be worse than what he just went through. _

He wondered if it was possible for a human-spider mutant to swing eight blocks in the span of five minutes, and the answer is  _ yes, yes it is.  _ But at what cost? He can still feel the sting of the cold air on his face, the ache in his arms that feels like his muscles were ripped apart, the burning in his chest that had his lungs constricting, everything. He could also feel the bone-deep pain in his ribs, which was probably from his horrible landing in the alleyway. It was so foggy and dark outside that when he tried to break his fall in the trash, he ended up colliding with the very edge- and very  _ metal-  _ part of the dumpster. Plus he's about 60% sure he had something crack. Of course, he still has super healing, so the agony should be over within the next few hours, but that didn't mean it hurt any less for the time being. If he listened really closely, he could hear the pesky little trash pandas laughing at his failure.  _ Damn raccoons, don't they realize that deep down he's the same kind of hungry dumpster diver they are? _

He so badly wanted to lie down and call it quits, just sleep for the next three days, but he knew he couldn't. He had an internship to get to. A  _ Stark _ internship to get to. Why does he keep forgetting that this is his dream company?! Why isn't he spontaneously combusting and fanboying right now?! Usually, the only thing keeping his excitement in check on a daily basis is his existential dread. So he guessed at this point it was existential dread  _ and  _ the horrible pain in his ribs. Oh crap, his ribs! Peter willed the pain away enough for him to be able to stand, he practically sprinted towards the doors of S.I. Even from outside, he could see the glow of the lights in the lobby, he could feel the warmth radiating from inside just begging to take him away from the cold, grey skies- oh my god. Peter's going down with the demons but this is that heavenly paradise he was talking about, might as well enjoy it while he can.

Just as the clock struck 7:35, Peter burst through the gold, revolving doors, and  _ my god did that feel good. _ The heat wrapped around him like a snug blanket, a welcome change from the battlefield that was today's weather. Vaguely, Peter was reminded of the random fact he came across in a national geographic book. Something about spiders hibernating in the winter? Yeah... it's probably best if he doesn't think about that right now. Shrugging off the thought, Peter rubbed his hands together to produce more warmth, looking around the room for the front desk. He saw marble floors, glass walls, potted plants, the place just screamed fancy. And Peter probably would have been more impressed if it weren't for the fact that Hammer Industries was  _ a carbon freaking copy of this place _ . Well, minus the silver statue, that is, which he should count as a blessing. The only difference Peter could find between the two places is that everyone here looked a little less depressed, and he guessed that counted for something. There also wasn't a Starbucks cafe, but rather a Dunkin Donuts one. Peter narrowed his eyes, he didn't know how to feel about that. But finally, he found the desk.

As he made his way over, his enhanced hearing could pick up the sound of frustrated groans, followed by a booming sound, and finished off with uncontrollable laughter. Quite the odd combination, but Peter paid no extra mind to it, refocusing his attention back to the receptionist. They currently had their head down, typing lord knows what on the sleek Stark brand computer, and Peter swore he felt deja vu with this whole scenario. Much like his H.I experience, Peter leaned against the desk and patiently waited for the person to finish, staring down at Mr. Stark's business card that currently rested in his left hand. Ah jeez, what was he supposed to say again? His name is Peter Benjamin Parker, he's here for the September foundation night shift, he called a lady for more info last week before accepting the job and his Stark badge ID number should be 12300-

"Hi, there!" Peter froze, a chill sharper than the icy winds outside creeping up his spine. He knew that voice, he  _ spoke to that voice _ . This... this was the lady he called on the phone. Oh god, he did not want a repeat of that conversation. He frantically looked around, hoping that somehow this wasn't the lady he was supposed to speak to, and instead, it was just a different overly friendly employee. But instead of finding another receptionist, Peter's eyes managed to catch the name written on her nameplate.

_ CORDELIA HERALDS _

...Oh. Peter panicked expression melted from his face, replaced by something eerily blank. His right hand drifted down to his pants pocket, where he felt the vague outline of a Stark Industries badge belonging to a certain peppy someone that was currently vibrating in front of him. He hadn't forgotten to bring it along with him this morning- Take that, Ned! He  _ does _ have a good memory from time to time.- but that didn't mean he was going to hand it over, either. This assistant had caused him truckloads of emotional pain in the span of a single phone call, and this was his only chance for revenge. Of course, she wouldn't know it was him, and it probably wouldn't affect her life that much judging by the way she now has a new badge, but Peter still felt a sliver of petty satisfaction knowing he once caused her a mild inconvenience. The only other thing on his mind was:

_ This. This is why I'm going down with the demons. _

"Um... hello?" Oh right, she spoke to him. "You kinda spaced out there before evily smiling." He- Peter swallowed his irritation, knowing that technically wasn't her fault.

"Oh right, haha, s-sorry about that." Peter sheepishly rubbed the back off his neck, showing embarrassment that deeply contrasted his inner turmoil. "Uh, I-I'm here for the September foundation?" Why does he keep phrasing statements as questions?! And how weird did it sound saying September foundation in October?

"Of course! I thought I recognized that voice!" Unfortunately, he recognized hers too. "Peter Parker, right?" He nodded and she smiled even wider than he had thought possible, showing off her pearly white teeth. Maybe the happy go lucky vibe was a disguise, and her real intention was to tear him apart with her fangs. He honestly wouldn't be that surprised. She reached behind her and pulled out an already laminated badge, handing it to him. "You'll have to wear this badge whenever you come in for work, as you need to pass through the scanners to get to the elevator. Of course, you can always replace it if you lose it but it's a pretty embarrassing experience to have security called on you when you try to go in without one." She looked at the scanners like it personally offended her, and you know what, it probably did. Peter couldn't hold back a small smile at that. She continued.

"They'll think you're crazy and drag you out and you'll have to call your friend that works here just so they can barely stop the men from turning you over to an insane asylum. Then once you file for a new badge you'll have to deal with the badge woman's disappointed eyes because deep down they all know you're a failure." Well... that escalated. The woman's face made it seem like she was having war flashbacks, recounting the horrors she went through. Peter's smile faded and he decided it would be best to move on and just pray the woman got a therapist for that experience. Peter turned it over, excitement bubbling up inside him as he prepared himself to see his name engraved on a  _ Stark Industries _ badge and-

_ Peter Parker  _

_ Security Level: Theta  _

_ Stark Industries _

Peter's face darkened as he stared down at the words written. It... it was the same design as H.I. Exactly how much did Hammer copy?! Application questions, interior design, badge content- it's really starting to freak him out. But how were they even able to get Stark's information in the first place? Everything related to S.I products is strictly confidential, as all employees are required to sign some kind of NDA when they're recruited. Which makes sense, given the fact that every single avenger lives here and might be caught doing something personal once in a while. Peter paused, replaying the words over in his head. The avengers lived here. And so did Tony Stark. Holy CRAP. Why is he not freaking out again?! Why does no one here even look fazed by the concept of superheroes existing just floors above them?!

Maybe they saw Thor stalking the hall in his pajamas and decided that they never wanted to speak of it again. Or maybe they saw War Machine devouring hamburgers in the cafeteria late at night and realized they're just people, too. After intruding on any crazy or personal events, they probably got desensitized to seeing them around. He knows that won't ever be the case for him, but then again, he's an immature teenage wannabe-avenger fanboy.

"-and for interns such as yourself, accessing floors 1 through 30." Peter huffed, this daydreaming habit has got to stop, but at least he got the gist of his security level. "Level Beta is for your superiors and higher-ups, the people who report directly to Ms. Potts. And finally, level alpha is for the Avengers and Tony Stark, as well as his close friends, on floors 51 and 52." Huh, so he will see them walking around from time to time. Won't that be a jarring experience? Although, now that Peter thinks about it, S.Ias two more floors than H.I. Now Peter hates English class, but he's pretty sure that somewhere in this crazy scenario, that's symbolism.

"Anywho, now that we've got that all covered," Peter flinched back as Ms. Heralds unexpectedly shot up and grabbed a clipboard. Was she going somewhere or...? "Time to start the tour!" Peter kept his face carefully blank and devoid of all emotions as she held out her arm, signaling him to follow her to the scanners. All of a sudden he felt the pain come back. The sting on his face, the ache in his arms, the burning in his chest, his probably-broken rib that healed a bit- all of it. And through it all he only had one thought on his mind about the tour:

_ That. That is what the underworld will be like. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND THAT'S THE END OF CHAPTER 13 but in no way is it the end of Peter's first day. We still have a horrible tour to get through. Anyone who thought Tony purposely made Peter's schedule that hard, you were 100% right. Happy seems to be one of the only people in this story that realize how bad of a decision that was. Will Peter be able to handle the workload?! Will Tony ever realize how bad his plans are?! Will Justin finally get arrested?! FIND OUT NEXT TIME ON-
> 
> Sorry if this chapter was a little uneventful, but I figured I should post a chapter already and write his first day in parts instead of doing a 10,000 word long monstrosity chapter for the whole thing. So hopefully chapter 14 will be better! I have a few things planned for next chapter, but now that we've reached this point in the story, I have to start planning how the rest of the story is gonna go. Because I do have an ending in mind, as well as random events that take place between now and then, but there is still quite a lot to add. Anyway, THANK YOU guys for all your support for this story! See you next chapter, byee! :D
> 
> (Question: Anyone here read webtoon? If so, which ones??)


	14. Charity Case

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *kicks down door* WHAT YEAR IS IT?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, first things first, sorry for being seven months late. Although I do find it hilarious how the end notes on the last chapter were me mentioning the new fanfiction I was writing and how that didn't mean I was taking a break from this fanfic. But here we are... seven months and three other fanfictions later. 
> 
> If anyone is still here (thanks by the way)! No promises on me ever having a real updating schedule again, because for some reason I thought writing six fanfics at once was a good idea. Also because BNHA took over my life. Also because my idea for what direction this fic is going in is all over the place and just the slightest bit cringey. 
> 
> Anyway! Thanks for reading if you're still here! And if you got this notification thinking it was for slight emotional manipulation, sorry it's not! Still working on that chapter but it's not discontinued!

How much blood does a person have to lose to pass out?

Don't get him wrong, this is the one time he won't say he's asking for a friend, 'cause that would probably be more worrisome. But as far as Peter's concerned, that's a valid question. In this situation, at least. He always sees it happen in movies but it's never specified.

He doesn't blame the director for that, though. Admittedly it would be a little weird for a character to yell out, in the middle of being chased by a slasher, 'Oh no! 7.5 more pints of blood and I'll pass out!' as if it were common knowledge. Still, he wouldn't mind if it was.

The reason he's asking is that after about thirty minutes of nonstop walking, his feet feel like they're bleeding. And if you give him a few more minutes, his ears might start bleeding, too. Like seriously, he knows he's a hypocrite for saying this, but  _ my god  _ can that woman ramble.

And in all honesty, the rambling isn't the problem, it's how freaking happy she is while discussing the history of S.I! Not only is her voice's pitch way too high for this time of day- or rather night, but no one can be  _ that  _ enthusiastic when discussing the deaths of Howard and Maria Stark. Or just assassinations in general.

Despite popular belief, Peter had no idea what was inside Stark tower. Sure, there were tours almost every Saturday, but it's foolish to think he had enough money to blow on that. And now he's kinda glad he never tried, considering where he is right now. 

So far they've passed through the biomedical and biochemical engineering, telecommunication engineering, and environmental engineering departments- and wow that's a lot of engineering, he guesses he has some stuff to consider before college. Tony wasn't lying about the equipment, by the way.

They had the kind of stuff you'd expect to see in some futuristic sci-fi movie, and thousands of it, too. He didn't expect any less, though, it must be easy getting access to all these materials when your company is the one who manufactures them.

Oh, and they brushed by the avengers' museum. Yes, you heard him right, the  _ avengers' museum.  _ He knows this is a popular area that would get a lot of foot traffic during tours, but it's a little cocky, isn't it?

The room's purpose must have been for tourists only, but something about the inside jokes written on sticky notes placed beside all of the Avengers' individual plaques says otherwise. For Thor, it says that both his favorite and least favorite animal is a snake. For Black Widow there aren't any words, just a yellow and red post-it placed next to each other and a sad face. For Tony, it's a dramatically long poem where the first line is "Strawberries: To buy or not to buy." And for Captain America, it just says "Language", which Peter doesn't really have context for but he has the feeling that he doesn't actually need it to understand.

He's seen way too many PSAs for the idea of the Captain  _ not _ being a stickler for language to be impossible. Just when Peter had started to admire the previous arc reactor models, he heard voices coming around the corner and footsteps getting increasingly louder.

Ever the socially awkward teenager, Peter scurried off to the corner, making sure that he was unseen by the approaching people. It earned him a weird look from Ms. Heralds- Daminit! Why the honorifics?!- who was currently taking a break from the tour to text someone.

"Screw you, Steve, I know how to cook!" A deep voice rang out. Wait,  _ Steve?  _ Peter didn't turn around, but the name did slightly pique his interest.

"You know how to heat up a can of beans and a bowl of soup, Bucky, that hardly counts as cooking."

_ Now _ Peter's interest was piqued. He knew that voice, he was forced to listen to that voice every week until his ears bled and his soul detached from his body.  _ Captain friggin America. _ Peter narrowed his eyes and sunk even deeper into the shadows, except this time it wasn't just his crippling social anxiety. He knew for a fact that if the man spoke to him, he might not be able to control whatever came out of his mouth as a reply.

"Like you can even talk, Rogers." Black Widow?! Peter had to physically restrain himself from turning around and bounding over to her to pester her about his countless questions. "You can make a bowl of pasta and nothing else. Congratu-freaking-lations." Hell yeah, you tell him!

"You have surprisingly high standards for someone who lives with  _ us."  _ The Winter Soldier piped in, "Bruce and Rhodey only make enough for themselves, Thor and Clint destroy the oven, Sam stinks as per usual, and Stark's eating schedule is still unknown to everyone but himself." Seems like they live as one big family in this building, and Peter didn't know if he should find that endearing or run for his life.

"I don't have high standards, you guys just set the bar so goddamn low." Black Widow said, and the spider vigilante could see her nonchalantly picking her nails with her knife as if it was the most casual thing in the world. So cool...

"Oh come on! That's complete bullshi-"

"Language." Peter, Black Widow, and the Winter Soldier said at the same time, perfectly in sync.

If Peter's life was a movie, this would be the moment where the camera freezes on the panicked expression on his face and he begins his voiceover. The voice-over would most likely be his future self talking, probably from Hell because there's no way he's making it past 25 with his lack of self-preservation, and future Peter would say something like 'And this, my friends, is the moment my life ended.' Because that's exactly what this is.

Why did he feel the need to invite himself into a conversation that he was never apart of? Why was the first thing he said a direct insult towards one of the speakers? And most importantly, why did Black Widow and the Winter Soldier say the exact same thing as him? Peter didn't know the answer to any of those questions. And frankly, he wished he didn't have to ask them in the first place.

The room was completely silent, and he didn't need to look into the reflection of the arc reactor display case to know that their eyes were burning holes into his neck. He didn't dare turn around, deathly afraid of what they would say to him. Is he about to get yelled at by two soldiers and an assassin? Scratch that, two soldiers, an assassin, and some overly enthusiastic receptionist.

Vaguely, a small part of Peter really wants to get yelled at by Ms. Heralds. Just to test his theory and see if she can experience more than one emotion.

Thirty seconds had passed and still, no one had uttered a word, he was starting to get a tad bit agitated. Like are they gonna yell at him or not?! Make up your minds people! If this goes on any longer he's gonna end up with chronic back pain from shrinking himself up too much. Peter saw Ms. Heralds' expression in the glass and concluded that yes, she can experience more than one emotion.

Except it wasn't so much anger and frustration as much as it was fear and dread. Still, he can die peacefully now that he has an answer. At his funeral, he hopes Ned will say something like 'Peter Benjamin Parker died as he lived, one overly dramatic science experiment.' Because really, when you think about it, Peter isn't a human  _ or  _ spider. He's just a science experiment and OH MY GOD THAT'S SO MESSED UP WHAT THE-

"H-how do you know what that means-" Steve's stuttering question cut off Peter's existential crisis and the doe-eyed teenager decided to return the favor.

"Put a sock in it, you hypocritical piece of crusty ravioli, I'm trying to think,"

WHY?! WHY CAN'T HE JUST SHUT UP?! WHY DOES HE KEEP MAKING THINGS WORSE FOR HIMSELF?! I mean he doesn't completely regret it because  _ lord knows the avenger deserved it _ but still! Yes, Peter has a lack of self-preservation skills, but he thought that only applied to when he was fighting as Spider-Man! Not when he was taking a tour at S.I as a regular high school intern and having a conversation with one of the most cherished avengers.

But at least he wasn't hunched up in a ball anymore, having straightened up to turn and glare at the blonde super-soldier. Peter's heart rate didn't slow down at all after this new show of faux confidence but at least his spine was doing okay. While Peter's mind was racing for something else to say, he took in the expressions of everyone else in the room.

Captain was a mixture of horrified and scandalized. Ms. Heralds was just horrified and looked like she was about to pass out any minute now. The Winter Soldier just kept opening and closing his mouth as if he was trying to come up with a response to this entire situation but was coming up short (Peter could relate). And Black Widow... well, no one can ever tell with her. But all those expressions were directed at him and suddenly Peter realized that he didn't have enough time for a response.

He had to get out of here, and he had to get out fast. His feet were bleeding by now, right? And maybe his ears started bleeding too while he didn't notice. Just a little longer and he'll lose enough blood to pass out. They'll bring him to the hospital and he can forget this day ever happened-

"AHAHAHA," Peter flinched from the sudden noise that erupted from the brown-haired man. Was... was he laughing? Was it supposed to be a maniacal laugh at Peter's approaching doom?! Bucky continued his wheezing, aware of the crisis Peter was currently going through. "HE- OH MY GODD. HYPOCRITICAL P- AHAHHA." The man was already starting to tear up as he hunched over, back trembling as he failed to suppress his amusement. Damn, he hates the guy but even that's some cold-hearted betrayal to take the side of the scrawny teenager. 

Captain sighed, but Peter could easily see his face redding. Any more of this and he'll be a tomato. The blonde soldier had a new look on his face, but it wasn't anger or spite or anything like that, really. It was just... exasperated humiliation.

Peter started inching away while the others were distracted, tugging on Ms. Heralds phone to snap her out of her stupor. She startled a bit before picking up on his signal and rapidly nodding. They quietly snuck back into the elevator with the stealth of alley cats. And just as the door was closing, they both heard one last thing from Black Widow.

"See? Even Peter agrees. Your pasta sucks."

Yeah... they should move on.

* * *

Stark Industries was such a well-known establishment that people occasionally forgot it's actual contents. Sure, it's science, but that's one hell of a broad term. And yeah, it's home to the avengers, who possess powers that most people could only dream of, but that's in no way related to the company. Truth is, there was another aspect of S.I that many people chose to ignore. And that, my friends, are the business departments. ...There's probably a more specific term for that but Peter doesn't know what it is.

"And h-here is the marketing and advertising sector!" Stuttered Ms. Heralds, clearly still affect by their recent encounter with the avengers. He wanted to feel satisfied with it, he really did, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel at least a little pity for the woman. Peter could sense his Spider-Man alter ego slip away as the shy, empathetic persona took its place. He smiled at the woman and for the first time in a long time, he was happy she smiled back. She continued.

"They design S.I's logos, ads, everything. And it's not as simple as many people think, as you can see." And yeah, he could see. The more he observed the employees in this sector, the more confused he got. There were certain patterns and colors that logos needed to have to draw attention to the product, the placement of objects in the photos needed to be just right, the saturation and focus of said objects also needed to be specified- all of it was just... so much. Although, he did wonder how cool it would be to be one of those models in the Stark phone commercials.

He and Ms. Heralds wandered through the rest of the sectors- accounting and finance, production and inventory, etc.- observing the workers and occasionally striking up a conversation with some of them, much to the employees' confusion. Most of them seem shocked at the scene of a  _ teenager _ who looked like they still need six more hours of sleepwalking in, fully equipped with an S.I theta badge and a little notebook. Still, though, they gladly answered all of his questions, which he happily jotted down on the notebook pages. Most of the questions he asked were for clarification, like what the acronyms they used represented. APD, BIMS, ETA, BAT- he learned all of it. However,  _ no one knew what goddamn SB time stood for _ . Is he already being singled out here?! In any case, that wasn't what concerned him the most.

The conversations were easy to start and uphold, but the words that the employees would mutter to themselves when they thought Peter wasn't listening was more than concerning. Of course, it was a reasonable assumption to think that Peter wasn't listening. After all, no normal human being should be able to coherently hear them from that far away. But as you all know, he's not fully human, he's a... science experiment. Yeah. Okay. But still, it was definitely unnerving to hear them say things like 'bright as the freaking sun' after their conversation had come to an end.

It's certainly one of the weirdest experiences he's ever had in a working environment. Peter didn't know what any of it meant. Was it a secret language the employees of S.I had developed so they could talk about others behind their back? And if so, what were they saying about him?! None of this is helping his paranoia! Still, he stayed silent. Because he knows that if he ever brought it up, they'd start asking him questions about how he'd been able to hear them. Agh, being a science experiment sucks sometimes. 

"Oh, yeah," A woman with pepper black hair and white whisps chuckled out as she stared at paperwork and chewed on her pen, it was a harsh, raspy sound, "the public relations department is treated like royalty here. And rightfully so!" She exclaimed the last part a bit louder, earning a few annoyed glances. Peter raised an eyebrow at her, silently asking her to elaborate as he copied down everything she said.

"That Potts lady, whatever her first name is, gives us another luxury whenever Tony Stark majorly screws up his public image. Of course, he never actually screws it up, you know why? 'Cause we take care of it. Whether it's being caught partying too hard, an embarrassing iron man moment, or a bad interaction with the paparazzi, the PR department shoves it under the carpet. And in return, we get raises. We get more breaks. We get our own private bathrooms. We get everything, kid.

"Don't get me wrong, though, nothing about this is shady. You know why all of us were hired? 'Cause we're the best of the best. And when you're the best, you know how to handle things in the best way possible. Here at S.I we acknowledge our mistakes, rather than cover them up. We let it all out in the open, and we make it up to the public. Of course, the whole making it up part may count as a bit manipulative. But I prefer the term 'strategic' if you will.

"We donate more money to charities, we throw fundraisers, we host galas, all of that and more. The most recent scandal was Stark drunkenly flying around in his little suit. Did you know he crashed into a giant donut? Yeah, not your regular Tuesday. Anyway, we took care of that, too."

"How'd you take care of it?" He asked, eyes ablaze with curiosity. The pepper haired woman paused in her pen chewing, twisting her neck around like a snake to look at him. She smirked, vibrant green eyes gleaming in appraisal.

"Look around, kid. Who's idea do you think it was to expand the September Foundation to highschool applicants." Peter tilted his head. What did she-?

Oh.

He shouldn't be offended by the woman's not-so-subtle implication, he doesn't have the right to be. In fact, he shouldn't even be surprised, because it's nothing to be surprised about. If there's one thing he learned from the raspy-voiced woman in their short conversation, it's that business is business, not something to take personally. That didn't make the cold realization sting any less, though.

But come on! Just because it was originally intended as a PR 'strategic' move, that didn't mean he didn't earn his role here. That didn't take away the worth from his academic accomplishments. This company could have easily told the press that they were expanding, and then just not hire anyone. No one would question it, because how could they? And Peter's about 60% sure that's what they intended to do in the first place. But even so, they'd taken him in! That proved that no matter how little or insignificant, Peter was worth just a bit of their time. And he'll take what he can get.

Peter smiled at the woman and shrugged, feigning nonchalance like he didn't just analyze this entire conversation. He watched as her eyes widened a bit before smoothing out her expression. She was shocked, but why? What was she expecting him to do?

Before he could ponder on the matter any longer, Ms. Heralds was already guiding him to the elevators, blabbering about sandwiches and smoothies or something. However, even as the doors started to close, he could still feel the vibrant green eyes burning into his back.

Ugh, what is it with dramatic and ominous exits into elevators today? Like Jesus christ people just press the button and get a move on, it's not that hard! Do they really feel the need to have the last word or action in every little thing? Is it a habit that people in this building spread to each other like a plague? In any case, at least he took notes.

Something to shove in Ms. Warren's face.

* * *

Turns out that the reason Ms. Heralds was blabbering about sandwiches and smoothies was that she was treating him to sandwiches and smoothies in the  _ fanciest goddamn cafeteria he had ever seen.  _ Peter's a regular 16-year-old kid- if you ignore the mystery surrounding what species he is- and he goes to a regular high school with a regular cafeteria.

He's used to ramen noodles dumped in the water fountain, gum under the table, barely edible food, and cliques. Not regular cliques, of course, like jocks and nerds and stuff, that's unrealistic. Just normal groups of friends that you always think are laughing at you when really they're discussing which species of dinosaur would be a better boyfriend.

And no, he's not making some weird joke, that was an actual conversation he overheard. Reasons were provided for the brachiosaurus, for the ankylosaurus, and for the tyrannosaurus rex. And Peter can say with 100% confidence that neither side deserved to win after traumatizing him for life.

But anyway, you can imagine his reaction to the foreign land that is the Stark Industries cafeteria.

To start it off, there were no water fountains, because of course, that'd be too easy for Tony Stark. Instead, mini-robots were rolling around, stopping by anyone who pressed some weird red button on their table and refilling their cups and water bottles. Interesting. Second, from where Peter was sitting, he risked running his hand along the bottom surface of the table and was pleasantly surprised to find absolutely nothing sticking to his hand afterward. Third, the food here was edible.  _ More  _ than edible. This was the kind of stuff you'd find in the pages of a greek mythology book being served to Zeus or something. It was meant for the gods, not a broke teenager. The menus contained items from a wide range of countries: France, Italy, Greece, the Philippines, and so much more.

Of course, he didn't actually order any of those. It felt weird ordering something so fancy when it wasn't his money that he'd be spending. So he stuck with a simple grilled cheese sandwich a strawberry banana smoothie that he was way too embarrassed to say the name of when ordering. Like seriously, 'Strawbana Bobana Bang Bang'? How can anyone expect  _ anyone _ to say that out loud?! He just gave a dead stare to the cashier and said number 5, thanking the gods when the man gave him an empathetic nod in return. Finally, someone who understands his pain.

However, not everything was so different from Midtown high when it came to cafeterias. Hence, the cliques. Why is he getting deja vu from the Mean Girls movie? It's like every department has formed its own little cult and is glaring at everyone who hasn't made a pledge of allegiance to them. Assistants not included, though, since they don't really align with any specific group. Peter guesses he should be grateful for that. It's when he takes the first bite of his gooey sandwich that Ms. Heralds starts talking.

"As you know, this is the cafeteria. And since there's such a wide arrange of food here, there's no need to go to outside sources for employee dinner orders." Oh right, he forgot it was actually dark outside right now. "So you won't need a company card or anything like that." THANK GOD. That obnoxious piece of plastic gives him more anxiety than it's tiny little size is worth. "You're free to use any of the carts provided if you have a particularly large order and need help carrying everything. Although judging by the way you were able to juggle a sandwich, smoothie, and notebook in your hands on the way over here, I don't think that'll be necessary." Peter snorted, sipping his smoothie, and Ms. Heralds brightened up. "So, how are you enjoying everything so far?"

Peter considered his words before meekly responding, already having learned his lesson about impulsiveness from that Captain America interaction. "It's... good. Really good. There's a wide range of departments for every single aspect of this company and I've already learned a lot from just a few conversations with some of the employees." Peter gestured to his notebook, filled with the familiar frantic chicken scratch. "Although, the PR department scares me." Ms. Heralds giggled.

"They scare everyone, Natalie, especially." She informed him.

"Natalie?" He doesn't remember meeting anyone by that name.

"Tall, black hair with some white strands, green eyes. You met her just a little while ago if I remember correctly."  _ Oh _ ,  _ her. _ Peter shivered, and Ms. Heralds nodded in understanding.

"Yeah, she has that effect on people. I swear she could make anyone sweat just by glancing at them. But she's good at her job, and she's close to all higher-ups, so she's pretty much the apex predator here." Apex predator. The enemy in a jungle full of prey.

Damnit, he's already a spider. Is he seriously going to be compared to a freaking mouse now? "If I were you, I'd stay on her good side. Or just, avoid all contact with her as much as possible."

Sounds pretty weird coming from someone as social as Ms. Heralds, but something about the haunted shadow that passed over her face tells Peter that she has already tried, and failed, the friendship route with Natalie. Rejection sucks in general, but that's gotta be brutal.

"Got it. Don't mess with Natalie." Ms. Heralds gave a firm nod, satisfied with his response. She opened her mouth again, looking as if she was prepared to give him more advice that he would gladly accept. But before she could even make a sound, a loud slam sounded on his left. Both Peter and Ms. Heralds flinched at the sudden burst in noise, turning at the same time to catch the culprit red-handed.

They didn't expect to see said culprit grinning like a madman as she focused all of her attention on Peter, hovering over her tray that had literally nothing on it. All that told Peter was that she clearly didn't come here to eat and probably had some ulterior motives on her mind. The woman with straight black hair and eyes settled down in the seat next to Peter whipped out his phone before finally speaking.

"So, Peter Parker? That's your name?" Does this woman seriously think he's going to reveal personal information to a stranger-

"Yeah,"

"Eh, I can work with that. Your lucky it's a catchy alliteration, something that rolls of the tongue on a magazine article." Odd comparison, but thanks, he guessed. "Your face on the other hand?" She made a 'yikes' face.

He's known this woman for two seconds and she's already ruined his self-esteem. People at Stark Industries really are 100% one side or the other on the jerk spectrum, huh? Peter tried not to look too offended at her comment, but she picked it up anyway.

"It's nothing personal about your hair anything, it's just the weird face you make whenever a camera is pointed at you. It's like the person behind the camera is waving a gun around and threatening to shoot you if you don't smile on the count of 3. No one is gonna wanna buy a magazine with something that looks like a mugshot on the cover of it." Okay, what's with the random comparisons to magazines?

"I'm- I'm not going to be on a magazine cover, though..."

"Well, of course not an actual magazine. Everything is online nowadays and I'd prefer not to waste paper. And yes, actually, you will, whether you like it or not. So it's my job to prepare you for that,"

That's certainly very threatening.

"Good," Ah, he said it out loud, "And it's for your own good, too. You can either work with me on this- which I strongly recommend, I really need the credibility this would give me for a promotion- or you can work with Natalie. And at least I, unlike Natalie, wouldn't leave out any information regarding your honest opinions about the topic that you may reveal during this interview," Peter froze.

"Interview?" She scoffed

"Well duh, how else would I write this article?"

"You keep mentioning writing an article, but you haven't actually told me what it's about. Or- or even why it's related to me. Is it just information on a different employee here that I came across? Like Natalie? And is- is that why you said she would leave out certain information said about her?"

"No, silly!" Peter slightly frowned. He loved friendly people, and he considered himself to be one when he wasn't so devastatingly awkward or snarky at the wrong moment. But there was something about the way this woman was sugar-coating her words and talking down to him that made alarm bells go off in his ears, "This article isn't about her, it's about the 'strategic move' the PR department keeps bragging about lately. I figured I'd steal some spotlight and knock them down a few notches. Lord knows they deserve it,"

Well, that's... shady.

"Oh... Well, in that case, I'm not sure I can help you. Natalie only vaguely mentioned the galas and fundraisers, she didn't tell me too much about it." Even if she did, he's not sure he would tell this woman based on the way she's flashing all her teeth like a shark. Peter turned to the quiet woman next to him, "Maybe Ms. Heralds knows thou-"

Ms. Heralds picked up her lunch and scurried out of the cafeteria, leaving the words 'bathroom!' in her wake. Traitor. Peter turned back to the woman. The woman named... Marie, judging by the golden engraved pen she pulled out along with a notepad. She gave him a sly smile.

"I'm not talking about the galas, Parker, I'm talking about you," Oh.

Peter zoned out staring at his food as Marie began chattering about the basic questions she was gonna ask- where he's from, what school he goes to, whether he was a scholarship kid or not, and if so how grateful is he to be handed such great opportunities... all that jazz. He supposed he should be grateful, after all not everyone gets the chance to go to a school as prestigious as Midtown and work somewhere like Stark and Hammer, especially not someone from his socioeconomic status. And it's because of that fact that Peter can't help but feel like a bad person whenever he feels a sting of disappointment at someone bringing it up.

He likes to think of himself as a hard worker, given how much time he spends studying and reviewing, helping other people with their studying and reviewing, and how often he had to give puppy eyes to the receptionist at the local library so she would let him continue on with his studying and reviewing way after midnight. And with all of the endless efforts that go into that, he would have thought that they would be recognized for what they really are, which are his accomplishments. His, no one else's.

Because when they're labeled as something other than that, all the hard work Peter thought he did would vanish from sight and the only thing that could be perceived was two words that Flash had uttered to him during his first week of school, words he knows tens of people secretly think behind their back: Charity case.

But at the end of the day, his situation is unavoidable, and the everlasting risk of poverty that floats around him and his aunt prevents him from ever trying to escape it. He doesn't want anyone's pity, but their pity brings money, and that's the one thing his hard work was never able to make up for. So for now, he'll suck it up. He'll answer these dumb questions and pose as the PR department's strategic move to pay back Stark and Hammer and whoever else brought it upon themselves to 'save him'. Because that's what he does.

He works, he smiles, and he keeps his mouth shut. All in hopes that one day- when he's an adult with a stable career, both in STEM and Spiderman, and a stable income for him and his aunt- he'll be the one doing the saving. And he'll be more than just a charity case.

Peter lifted his head to face Maria, who had just stopped talking to wait for his answer. He forced his usual small smile.

"I couldn't be more grateful."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cringe fest, amiright? Anywho, thanks for anyone who made it till the end and I'm sorry for the late update! I don't exactly want to continue the tour, because what else is there to see? So next chapter (whenever that is) will jump to something else. And by the way, that dinosaur conversation I mentioned? That really happened between me and my friends. We have concluded that a t rex is superior.
> 
> OKAY THX FOR READING BYEEEEEEE

**Author's Note:**

> So that's the end of chapter one! Thanks to anyone who read my poor quality fanfic! If anyone is reading, please feel free to comment constructive criticism or just anything in general :D I'm aiming for a slow burn kind of story so it might have started off a little slow and boring but I'm working on it! Until next chapter, bye!


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